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There’s something wonderful about being at the beginning. A new marriage, a new baby, a new house, a new canvas.
Then, one of two things happens: the newness wears off and I get bored, or (the worst thing) I mess it up so badly that what I prized about the newness is forever lost. I like new because it speaks of untold possibilities. They’re endless, but what I hate most about myself is the projects I have started that end up looking so messy.
I have been thinking a lot lately about how many things I have already messed up: decisions I have made that can’t be undone, words I have said to friends that I can’t take back, dollars spent that can’t be returned, mistakes I have made in child-rearing that my children will need God to meet them in.
And I am faced again with this bitter truth: I am not perfect.
Oh, how I hate that!
New means possibility, but once I grace (OK, touch) the canvas, I usually feel like I am woefully inept to execute the beautiful work of art I see in my mind. And I fail time and time again to be the image-bearer of Christ that I want to be.
My grandest aspirations end up looking like my kids’ finger-painting gone-awry.
And so I hold it up to God. Like my kids, I need the affirmation that comes from the Father.
And he takes it, makes it new, calls it beautiful, and shows me what a work of beauty he can make from my messes and failures.
It’s the work of resurrection, and its happening now.
So as I process this coming year, I look again at the threads of life I am working with, and I am again dealing with how often we begin in the middle of things with neither beginning nor end in sight. But He’s breathing new life into the dead places again. A new year, a new beginning, a wonderful reminder of the fresh start I am given each day in Him.
What kinds of things are you doing to start fresh this year?
