I sip the steaming coffee, settle back into the holiday pillow, and think, “this year doesn’t look too different from the last one so far—but that doesn’t mean it won’t be one of growth and pain". That’s the pattern of life—birth, growth, decline, death. To my right is a beautiful amaryllis. See that bud at the top? A week ago it was well below the blooms that are now wilting. I can approach this metaphor two ways—one, I can remorsefully look at the dying flowers, reminiscing of their “glory days” and ignore the bud shooting up. The other option is to gaze at the new life—the bud that is growing as the first fruits wilt—their dying is purposeful, allowing for new life and blooms to come.
What
a beautiful picture for the coming year.
I could look back on 2012—a monumental year for me in many ways—and scorn the uncertainty of the “new bud” and seasons ahead—or I can trust that even though the life of the blooms of growth and realized dreams of last year are wilting—their “death” is purposeful too. One of my favorite authors, Jan Karon, articulates that “one of the things that pushes the dead leaf of the stem is bud of the new leaf that pushes it off the limb”. As I look past the amaryllis into a bright sunny New Year’s Day morning, I can’t help but think amen. Isaiah 43:19 reminds me that God is “…doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert” (ESV). He is preparing buds for their time of flourishing. This year, I don’t want to choose option one—constantly re-living in the fulfilled dreams of 2012 like a has-been athlete—No, I want to focus on the “will be”. I’m not naïve to think that I can know what this year will tangibly bloom into, but I know my God and I know it’ll be beautiful. It will shine because He works all things for good—even wilting memories and petals. So today, in the beginning of this new trek around the sun, I choose hope. I can’t wait to see what blooms in 2013.
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