I heard this at a church service this Christmas. Yes, I know Christmas is over. But it really struck a cord, particularly with hitting the "Reset" button for a new year:
"It was as if an earthquake rent
"It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said;
"For hate is strong,And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men."
I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day
In the world around us, belief in "peace on earth and good-will to men" has begun to fracture by the havoc wreaked in our daily news and daily life. The weight of a world cultivated by pride, obsession, and hatred is too much to withstand. "Mocks the song", as the carol says. Fear and upset delude hope, love feels fictional, and dreams become just that.
In my own little world, I spent the last 365 days falling down...hard.
In my own little world, I spent the last 365 days falling down...hard.
This blogging endeavor is one year old today. Its goal was to track the goals (and craziness) of 2017. Blessing certainly came my way...Cubbies Director, college, wedding officiant, preschool beginnings, small group initiation, the growth of my beautiful children. In the same breath, it was an exceptionally challenging year. My own shortcomings, failures, and sin cycles devoured more time and energy than I care to admit. Additionally, specific outside circumstances continued to shatter, rebuild, and shatter again. An unruly repetition,grasping at a ghost resolve. It was a year that, by the end, did not feel hopeful. It felt defeated...exhausted...broken. I had started 2017 determined to make life "better", but rather took routes that landed me right back to square one.
This week I've been reading the amazing and positive goals that many of you are charging after. Genuinely, I wish you the best. I, in turn, am tempted to go into hibernation. I mean, can 2018 REALLY be any better? Last year was supposed to be the "best year ever," as they say, and we can see how that went. Why should I let myself down again?
In efforts to be optimistic, can I somehow use my broken pieces of 2017 for something good in the year to come?
1 Timothy 1:15-16
"Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full
acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the
worst. But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of
sinners, Christ Jesus might display his immense patience as an example for
those who would believe in him and receive eternal life."
I was so encouraged stumbling onto this, a verse I posted on Facebook a little over a year ago (thanks, Facebook memories). It shouts the answer that I can, because God can. Not of my doing, but of Christ in me and through me. In my weariness I forget the beauty that He pulls from ashes, continuing to take my worst for His best. I'm enabled to comfort others with the same comfort He has given to me (2 Corinthians 1:3-7). And when I wonder if what I do will ever be enough to combat the world's darkness and my own, I'm reminded that goodness with Christ always matters. Hope always matters.
It's what transforms our hearts from "There is no peace on earth" to "God is not dead, nor doth He sleep". From greatest sinner to mercy sharer. Cultivating lifeless soil with seeds of fruitfulness.
(Galatians 5:22-23 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law)
(Galatians 5:22-23 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law)
So right now, I'm not thinking about "5 Goals to Make 2018 the Best Year Ever".
I'm not giving a lot of thought to lost pounds on a scale, books to be read, or a cleaned-out closet (although, none of those would be a bad idea).
I'm not giving a lot of thought to lost pounds on a scale, books to be read, or a cleaned-out closet (although, none of those would be a bad idea).
For now, I'm just scooping up the pieces of my brokenness to present to the Ultimate Fixer-Upper, the Master Healer and Redeemer. I'm believing His promise that He is faithful and just to forgive those who are repentant (1 John 1:19), and trusting that my fractured remains are in the right hands.
This year, the goal isn't, "Year Me."
This year, it's, "Lord, Use Me."
This year, it's, "Lord, Use Me."
