Resolution: Try Harder
This year I want do-able resolutions. My original set was “Drink water” and “Roast more vegetables.” Nothing especially earth (or ego) shattering.
Mediocre ambitions fully intact, I headed to church. And then Jesus screwed everything up. Ugh, Him and His life transforming qualities.
That day we talked about the devotion that landed Daniel in the lions’ den. We discussed his unwavering faith through intense hardship. Drawing significantly from Daniel 6:23, “The king was overjoyed and ordered that Daniel be lifted from the den. Not a scratch was found on him, for HE HAD TRUSTED IN HIS GOD.” Emphasis WAY mine.
The pastor encouraged us to cultivate “a little more faith” for the new year. Take a step forward and see what happens. Even Daniel wasn’t immediately granted a rock-solid, lion-taming belief in God. Listen: I’m not doubting the youthful sincerity of D's initial dedication to Yahweh, perhaps spurred by a exceptionally moving Sunday school flannelboard or Cheez-It/fruit punch communion. Because -regardless of age- whenever our following Christ moment happened, it was an honest choice. But like any relationship, it requires cultivation to grow. And that’s what fills the majority of the Bible’s pages: Encouragement, advice, historical accounts- All pointing to the importance of finding and nurturing faith in the Father.
So, a little more faith. A little more consistency. A little more peace. My new and improved goals to attempt for 2018. By trying harder. But what does that MEAN in normal life terms?
In the morning, I can use a devotional app, or a REAL book (Gasp! Like the Bible?!), to spend time connecting with my Savior. Let’s start with 5 minutes. I can do this.
During the day, I can manage my time well. I can prioritize friends AND still do productive work at home. How about 2 tasks a day? (Don’t judge!) I can do this.
I can have fun interactions with others, while being sensitive and kind with my talking hole. (Elijah recently spoke of my ability to “body slam” people with words. YIKES!) Be aware of your mouth, Laura. I can do this.
When our family is together, I can give them my undivided attention. I can put down my dumb “smart” phone. I can look them in the eyes and ask questions about their days. I can pretend to care about their nerdy interests. Dinner is sacred conversational space. I can do this.
Lastly, I can choose my perspective about circumstances. Grandma was a shining example of this recently. She moved to Maryland in the summer and lived with my folks until finding and settling into a home late this fall. Then as 2018 dawned, she awoke to a strange noise. Turns out that a line in her sprinkler system had frozen, causing the pipe to burst and pour water through her front rooms--ruining newly purchased furniture and carpet, not to mention obliterating the ceiling. After her hectic new year's day -spent contacting insurance agents, contractors, family- I called my tired Grandma. And instead of feeling bad for herself or venting, she enumerated things for which she was thankful. That she woke up in time to rescue irreplaceable mementos. That she now lived close enough to have immediate physical help from her son and grandson. That my folks have a comfortable place for her to stay while home repairs occur. I’d basically given her license to complain and she wrapped up our chat with, “....Really it’s been blessings on top of blessings.” Talk about a convicting kick-in-the-pants. I’m convinced Jesus hates me when I get stuck in the slow line at the grocery store. So, yeah. Baby steps on perspective. I can do this.
Please note I’m not attempting to become Daniel OR my Grandma. I’d like to model their behavior though, even if their particular level of sainthood is unreachable. And maybe you, like me, need to hear this: It’s okay to start really small. Perhaps your version of trying HARD seems simple to the point of stupid. It’s not stupid. You’ve heard, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” Guys, I still congratulate myself on periodically mustering enough energy to floss at the end of the day. Yay me! Because the journey to gum health begins with a single floss. (I sense the sarcastic applause of actual grownups and dentists everywhere.) But no matter if it’s in big or little ways, we can try harder. We can start somewhere. We can do this.
Mediocre ambitions fully intact, I headed to church. And then Jesus screwed everything up. Ugh, Him and His life transforming qualities.
That day we talked about the devotion that landed Daniel in the lions’ den. We discussed his unwavering faith through intense hardship. Drawing significantly from Daniel 6:23, “The king was overjoyed and ordered that Daniel be lifted from the den. Not a scratch was found on him, for HE HAD TRUSTED IN HIS GOD.” Emphasis WAY mine.
The pastor encouraged us to cultivate “a little more faith” for the new year. Take a step forward and see what happens. Even Daniel wasn’t immediately granted a rock-solid, lion-taming belief in God. Listen: I’m not doubting the youthful sincerity of D's initial dedication to Yahweh, perhaps spurred by a exceptionally moving Sunday school flannelboard or Cheez-It/fruit punch communion. Because -regardless of age- whenever our following Christ moment happened, it was an honest choice. But like any relationship, it requires cultivation to grow. And that’s what fills the majority of the Bible’s pages: Encouragement, advice, historical accounts- All pointing to the importance of finding and nurturing faith in the Father.
So, a little more faith. A little more consistency. A little more peace. My new and improved goals to attempt for 2018. By trying harder. But what does that MEAN in normal life terms?
In the morning, I can use a devotional app, or a REAL book (Gasp! Like the Bible?!), to spend time connecting with my Savior. Let’s start with 5 minutes. I can do this.
During the day, I can manage my time well. I can prioritize friends AND still do productive work at home. How about 2 tasks a day? (Don’t judge!) I can do this.
I can have fun interactions with others, while being sensitive and kind with my talking hole. (Elijah recently spoke of my ability to “body slam” people with words. YIKES!) Be aware of your mouth, Laura. I can do this.
When our family is together, I can give them my undivided attention. I can put down my dumb “smart” phone. I can look them in the eyes and ask questions about their days. I can pretend to care about their nerdy interests. Dinner is sacred conversational space. I can do this.
 |
| Okay, interest in SOME nerdy things isn't a stretch! |
Lastly, I can choose my perspective about circumstances. Grandma was a shining example of this recently. She moved to Maryland in the summer and lived with my folks until finding and settling into a home late this fall. Then as 2018 dawned, she awoke to a strange noise. Turns out that a line in her sprinkler system had frozen, causing the pipe to burst and pour water through her front rooms--ruining newly purchased furniture and carpet, not to mention obliterating the ceiling. After her hectic new year's day -spent contacting insurance agents, contractors, family- I called my tired Grandma. And instead of feeling bad for herself or venting, she enumerated things for which she was thankful. That she woke up in time to rescue irreplaceable mementos. That she now lived close enough to have immediate physical help from her son and grandson. That my folks have a comfortable place for her to stay while home repairs occur. I’d basically given her license to complain and she wrapped up our chat with, “....Really it’s been blessings on top of blessings.” Talk about a convicting kick-in-the-pants. I’m convinced Jesus hates me when I get stuck in the slow line at the grocery store. So, yeah. Baby steps on perspective. I can do this.
Please note I’m not attempting to become Daniel OR my Grandma. I’d like to model their behavior though, even if their particular level of sainthood is unreachable. And maybe you, like me, need to hear this: It’s okay to start really small. Perhaps your version of trying HARD seems simple to the point of stupid. It’s not stupid. You’ve heard, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” Guys, I still congratulate myself on periodically mustering enough energy to floss at the end of the day. Yay me! Because the journey to gum health begins with a single floss. (I sense the sarcastic applause of actual grownups and dentists everywhere.) But no matter if it’s in big or little ways, we can try harder. We can start somewhere. We can do this.
Comments
Post a Comment