Working out / getting toned didn’t even make it on my 2016 New Year’s Dreams. So.over.it. Before 2015 becomes a distant memory I want to remember. I want to sit in God’s goodness, to look back and say, Yes, I see it now, even if I didn’t see it then. You are good. Your plans are better than mine. They …
How are you? a friend asks.
I can feel my body looking for the nearest hole to crawl into, I reply. Maybe I’ll fly overseas and return come May.
I’m partly serious.
At Calendar’s turn from February to a new month, I sense, dread. March and April represent the anniversary of dad’s stroke and death, and a myriad of emotions that fall in-between, including late-fallen Easter. If I could just fast-forward this season, well, that would be super swell.
With New Year’s Day on the horizon, conversations surrounding resolutions and goals hang in the air.
I’m all for setting plans and putting them into action, but something about those words carry an obligatory weight, the thought tiring before I even attempt.
2014, the blessed turn from old to new page- heck, more like opening a new book – promises clean lines and open space to