Happy New Year!
This time of year tends to bring a natural reflection and rejuvenation and a sense of forward motion. We set goals, re-evaluate habits, and jump-start new routines all with the hopes of pushing forward and creating a better life. We create new ideas about what kind of glorious life we'd like to have if we could just (insert new year's resolution here). But you know what's been on my heart recently?
These days ARE the glory days. As much as our culture would like us to continue pushing forward toward a better life, there's a LOT to be cherished about today. Every today becomes a yesterday and every tomorrow becomes a today. I've been challenged to consider how quickly I wish away my today's for the hopes of tomorrows. It's an easy thing to do, especially if the season we're in is difficult, long, or without a lot of purpose. I frequently hear high schooler's say they can't wait until college, or college students say they can't wait for young adulthood, and young adults wish for marriages, careers, houses, babies, and everything that comes with it. And then, an odd thing happens. At some point, we look backwards and realize what freedom we had when we were single, what opportunities we had at age 22, what kind of security we had as children in households with other adults protecting us. And if you're anything like me, you start reminding people in the stages behind you "You don't know how good you've got it, kid! Just wait 'til you're in the real world!" Sound familiar?
The funny thing about growing older is that it seems we generally grow more fond of where we've been than we were when we were actually there. Hindsight is 20/20, right? In a world that's ever-increasingly displeased with the present, it's ironic to me that we grow so sentimental about the past... because often, we aren't even content while we're living it! I became acutely aware of this on a night where sleep just wouldn't settle in. Naturally, I was tired the next day but all it took was a conversation with a friend who has a couple toddlers at home to realize that my sleeplessness was not even worth mentioning. In fact, it was worth celebrating because I didn't have to get up with a family the next morning, push through another day of work, and then risk being woken up the next night by the same adorable yet sleepless little toddler-monster. As a single person, I have the luxury of dictating my whole schedule. Yes, that is a luxury. But I didn't see it that way through my own lens. I needed some perspective.
I've tried to be more intentional in the last few weeks at just taking an inventory of my day -- asking myself what went well, what was hard, and what went as-expected. And I've also made a mental list of basic everyday things that are "good day" things to me. So, a great day for me looks like: being able to sleep until I'm not tired (usually 7 AM because that's how I roll), a strong cup of coffee with breakfast and my bible, a workday with tasks and good conversations, a solid workout or a long walk in the park, a homemade meal, and then an evening of reading, listening to messages, hanging out with friends, or working on a project at home before going to bed when I feel like it. That's a stellar day to me.
And, you know, the season of life I'm in has been about 3 years of that exact pattern. Nearly 1,000 days of the same routine, the same luxuries, the same flexibility. I've had ONE THOUSAND STELLAR days -- but I've only cherished probably twenty of them. Funny how that works... Routine has a way of stealing the sparkle of what's really good about something and making it feel ordinary or boring. Comparison has a way of holding hostage the joy of today and tempting us to say "What I have is not enough yet." So, in vain strife, we chase after whatever it is that our hearts say is "enough..." only to find that either it doesn't fill the void we thought it would or that it's totally unattainable altogether. And then, we've wasted the days and we've missed opportunities to experience joy in the ordinary things. This life is only forward moving -- there's no undo button or pause and rewind functions, only perpetual forward motion. We get one chance at this thing called life -- no one is exempt from that and none of us know when this day is our last. I don't want to waste the time I'm given.
If I'm honest, I've wasted a lot of days in my 20's. And as they draw to a close, I'm working hard to be intentional about the final days of 29 -- to end this decade of life the exact opposite as they began. It's crazy to think about the amount of change that happened in the last decade. 10 years ago I was a college student living in a "city" of 100,000 who was convinced her purpose was to play in the pit orchestra of Broadway in New York. That career path is laughable now. No way! Not for me. The hard part is, I also know in the depth of my being that what life looks like today is not going to be forever. God willing, someday there will be a husband and family, probably some kind of moving or career shifting or community changes, and as I age, every stage brings new things.
It's really easy to get excited for tomorrow, for what's next or what you hope will be next. And it's not wrong -- we were created to hope, love, and live well. Humans need purpose. Change is good. But often we need the reminder to balance our hope of "next" with the beauty of "now." I've come to realize, these, in fact, ARE the glory days that my older relatives so often reminisce about. Every day you have is a day meant for God's glory. I hope you'll join me in 2019, intentionally choosing to cherish the days we are given as we continue to hope for what is to come. I don't want to grow older and wish for what I have now. I want to be able to say that I've used this time for everything it's worth. Because then, when Jesus calls me home, I'll be ready -- I'll know I lived well and did what had to be done in every season and my soul will be ready to rest. This life is only a prelude to Heaven. Are you living like it?
This time of year tends to bring a natural reflection and rejuvenation and a sense of forward motion. We set goals, re-evaluate habits, and jump-start new routines all with the hopes of pushing forward and creating a better life. We create new ideas about what kind of glorious life we'd like to have if we could just (insert new year's resolution here). But you know what's been on my heart recently?
These days ARE the glory days. As much as our culture would like us to continue pushing forward toward a better life, there's a LOT to be cherished about today. Every today becomes a yesterday and every tomorrow becomes a today. I've been challenged to consider how quickly I wish away my today's for the hopes of tomorrows. It's an easy thing to do, especially if the season we're in is difficult, long, or without a lot of purpose. I frequently hear high schooler's say they can't wait until college, or college students say they can't wait for young adulthood, and young adults wish for marriages, careers, houses, babies, and everything that comes with it. And then, an odd thing happens. At some point, we look backwards and realize what freedom we had when we were single, what opportunities we had at age 22, what kind of security we had as children in households with other adults protecting us. And if you're anything like me, you start reminding people in the stages behind you "You don't know how good you've got it, kid! Just wait 'til you're in the real world!" Sound familiar?
The funny thing about growing older is that it seems we generally grow more fond of where we've been than we were when we were actually there. Hindsight is 20/20, right? In a world that's ever-increasingly displeased with the present, it's ironic to me that we grow so sentimental about the past... because often, we aren't even content while we're living it! I became acutely aware of this on a night where sleep just wouldn't settle in. Naturally, I was tired the next day but all it took was a conversation with a friend who has a couple toddlers at home to realize that my sleeplessness was not even worth mentioning. In fact, it was worth celebrating because I didn't have to get up with a family the next morning, push through another day of work, and then risk being woken up the next night by the same adorable yet sleepless little toddler-monster. As a single person, I have the luxury of dictating my whole schedule. Yes, that is a luxury. But I didn't see it that way through my own lens. I needed some perspective.
I've tried to be more intentional in the last few weeks at just taking an inventory of my day -- asking myself what went well, what was hard, and what went as-expected. And I've also made a mental list of basic everyday things that are "good day" things to me. So, a great day for me looks like: being able to sleep until I'm not tired (usually 7 AM because that's how I roll), a strong cup of coffee with breakfast and my bible, a workday with tasks and good conversations, a solid workout or a long walk in the park, a homemade meal, and then an evening of reading, listening to messages, hanging out with friends, or working on a project at home before going to bed when I feel like it. That's a stellar day to me.
And, you know, the season of life I'm in has been about 3 years of that exact pattern. Nearly 1,000 days of the same routine, the same luxuries, the same flexibility. I've had ONE THOUSAND STELLAR days -- but I've only cherished probably twenty of them. Funny how that works... Routine has a way of stealing the sparkle of what's really good about something and making it feel ordinary or boring. Comparison has a way of holding hostage the joy of today and tempting us to say "What I have is not enough yet." So, in vain strife, we chase after whatever it is that our hearts say is "enough..." only to find that either it doesn't fill the void we thought it would or that it's totally unattainable altogether. And then, we've wasted the days and we've missed opportunities to experience joy in the ordinary things. This life is only forward moving -- there's no undo button or pause and rewind functions, only perpetual forward motion. We get one chance at this thing called life -- no one is exempt from that and none of us know when this day is our last. I don't want to waste the time I'm given.
If I'm honest, I've wasted a lot of days in my 20's. And as they draw to a close, I'm working hard to be intentional about the final days of 29 -- to end this decade of life the exact opposite as they began. It's crazy to think about the amount of change that happened in the last decade. 10 years ago I was a college student living in a "city" of 100,000 who was convinced her purpose was to play in the pit orchestra of Broadway in New York. That career path is laughable now. No way! Not for me. The hard part is, I also know in the depth of my being that what life looks like today is not going to be forever. God willing, someday there will be a husband and family, probably some kind of moving or career shifting or community changes, and as I age, every stage brings new things.
It's really easy to get excited for tomorrow, for what's next or what you hope will be next. And it's not wrong -- we were created to hope, love, and live well. Humans need purpose. Change is good. But often we need the reminder to balance our hope of "next" with the beauty of "now." I've come to realize, these, in fact, ARE the glory days that my older relatives so often reminisce about. Every day you have is a day meant for God's glory. I hope you'll join me in 2019, intentionally choosing to cherish the days we are given as we continue to hope for what is to come. I don't want to grow older and wish for what I have now. I want to be able to say that I've used this time for everything it's worth. Because then, when Jesus calls me home, I'll be ready -- I'll know I lived well and did what had to be done in every season and my soul will be ready to rest. This life is only a prelude to Heaven. Are you living like it?
Comments
Post a Comment