When the New Year Doesn’t Feel So New

Freshly fallen snow carpets the yard; a low and hazy sun stretches slowly into the morning sky. A new day dawns in a new year; there is much that will cover the canvas of the calendar these next twelve months. Many have made resolutions and goals, determined that this is the year they finally curb their unhealthy habits and make space for more margin in their hours.

The beginning of a new year offers a recommitment to the things we hoped to accomplish the year before, and a time to make strides on hopes that have lain dormant. A vigor to make this the year of accomplishment leads the charge with sparks of intention.

But for many of us, the turn of the page into another year comes with little change at all. There are still doctor appointments and diapers to change, illnesses that linger and weariness that won’t go away. Maybe the new year isn’t so fresh and hopeful.

What then, when the shiny possibility of goals and a clean slate don’t stack up for us in January? When it seems like the days roll right into one another with no differentiation? When we’re still slogging through?

Perhaps we give ourselves grace that our pace doesn’t need to follow the perceived race of the new year and all its quick firing resolutions. Perhaps we can take it slow into this season, to recognize our limitations and cares that continue and lay them at the feet of Jesus. To take up his yoke because he promised it was easy and his way is light, both metaphorically and literally.

Don’t we need a tiny light right now? In the middle of our messy days, our weary hearts, a flickering hope that hums through a bleak midwinter? Life can hit hard, but Jesus is gentle.

Come to him, all who have tried every other way. All who have held hurting loved ones and shouldered the pain of a punctured planet. If your splintered heart longs for healing, let his love wash your wounds from this world. Rest with him, walk in his way, lean into his arms, and remember that he calls you beloved.

For beloved we are, not from anything we’ve resolved to do but simply by being his.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” – Matthew 11:28, NIV

Be still. Receive grace. Go one day at a time, if that’s what you need. When the world runs full steam ahead and you are done trying to keep up, let go. Slow down. See him who holds it all, holding you.

Our cares will still be here tomorrow. But our hopes will still hold, and a good Shepherd will see us through, wherever this year brings us.

Release what isn’t yours to carry. Receive the gift that is grace upon grace. Look for his light through the fog of frenzy. Isn’t it a relief to rest in him?

What a relief to rest in him.