At the turn of each year I always seem to find myself in a kind of awe filled daze - that another year has come - that it has come so quickly - that I am still here and so old yet still me (whether that “oldness” means 21 or 51 or, God willing, 101 - that the “stuff” that is me is still the same as it has always been from the sketchiest beginnings of my first conscious memories. I stand in awe that God has done so much and I so little - that there is still so much left to do - that time is short and yet there is an eternity ahead; a heady mixture of puzzlement and wonder that just seems to get thicker and thicker until I shake myself and put that toe over the line into the next round of the fight.

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Inevitably I feel overwhelmed and thankful at the same time; resolved and dissolved - both helpless and hopeful. And that circle of time and seasons and the rotation of the earth around the sun seems for all the world like I’m going around the mountain again and again waiting for word that “it is finally time.”
Time for what? Well. . .ahh, and this is the very deepest of wells - to know that fully would be to know too much...too soon. It would ruin the surprise - and that love will not allow.

For love I know. Perhaps after all is said and done it is really the only thing I do know. And, somehow, part of what I know of it is that it will always be there - always both within my grasp and beyond my understanding. For it is not just “love” I know, but “Love”....a love that looks back at me when I look intently into its depths.

We turn the year like we would turn the pages of a book, turn a mattress or rotate a tire - like we lay ourselves down each night expecting - in faith - to get up again with the new day. We end one thing, just so we can measure beginnings. We count our successes - lay to rest our failures - close our eyes only to open them again and again and again. The endings and beginnings both born in love to give us opportunity to breathe deep, shed the ineffective, turn the chapter and take up the story again from a fresh point of view. An opportunity to go back to the beginning and uncover the wonders we missed last time around. It may be a new year, but it’s still the same story - your story, my story , history.

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