Snow shakes from the tuft of clouds like salt falling from its holder. There’s a freshness in the air that’s breathing quiet, steady. Cold is smooth, like satin on my exposed skin. And above in bare branches, birds speak with one another, their whistling coos calm across the trees.
This white-painted world washes this new year wide open.
We believe the burning hope within to start again.
But I, I wonder.
Where am I beginning?
Do I reset and start from scratch? Or simply continue in new cadence, found rhythm? I am still experimenting with the intricacies of this unexpected life.
To embrace the uncertainty and rest in what I cannot see. Stir with hope a resilience that balloons my chest for reasons unexplainable. Revel in wonder and unlatch “What if?”. Step into my destiny and approach it, not with fear, but anticipation. And truly let my belief bloom. Believe God to be bigger than my mess, bolder than what makes me afraid, and working beautifully on my behalf.
I know I don’t need a new year to clear my slate and start fresh—every day is a new beginning; His mercies rise abundant. But there is something to be said about a pause, a stepping back to assess a bridge between years. What is behind me, where I have come. How I’ve been rebuilt from the rubble, and now it’s time to burst forth.
These muted colors of steel and slate blanket the earth in dusty white as daylight slips behind the horizon. All is silent for the time. All is as it is becoming. I break in bleak midwinter to sing a safe admittance of my heart to Him who knows my tender speech.
Open. Surrender. Ride out the mystery. Recognize this wonder. Live as if there is nothing in this world that can stop what He has in store for this year, for my heart. Because if He who stirs this snow globe is for my good, this way to come is worth exploring.