Mysteries, thrillls and chills . . . one story at a time.
Y’all have heard me say before that I don’t do New Year’s resolutions . . . and I don’t. They never last past MLK day anyway.
Instead, I prefer to reflect on last year’s goals and objectives and use my successes and failures to plan for the next twelve months.
First and foremost, I want to give thanks to God for the journey. Through it all, He’s been right there and particularly in 2015, He showed me that I could set aside all worry and fear and place them all at His feet. There is no good reason I’m still here . . . whole, sane (in my opinion), healthy . . . except by God’s favor and for that, I am grateful.
In 2016, I want to love more. Not in a selfish way, not the way I think a person needs love, but I want to have the capacity to look at them, into their eyes, down to their souls, recognize the need and then step out of myself and . . . love.
I saw a lot of examples around me this past year . . . the father who praised his daughter just for being her rather than chastise her when she was late. The boyfriend in a committed relationship who, while acknowledging a sexual attraction to another woman, turned back to his woman in appreciation. The friend who refused to speak ill of a no-good boyfriend, instead taking her friend’s kids to the zoo to give mom and the kids a break from the drama.
My own child, who reassures me when I’ve worked sixty plus hours and I’m feeling guilty that I can’t take him to the movies because I’m too exhausted to take another step. My father who shows up without being asked to fix and putter around the house. . . the dogs who just seem to know when a cuddle is needed.
I see love all around me, I receive it daily and I hope I’m returning it in some small way . . . but I want to do more.