Eternal One, let me understand my end and how brief my earthly existence is; help me realize my life is fleeting. You have determined the length of my days, and my life is nothing compared to You, even the longest life is only a breath. Psalm 39.4-5 (The Voice)
The New Year . . . a blank canvas awaiting the brush strokes of the painter . . . a lump of clay anticipating the hands of the potter. Three hundred and sixty-five days. Fifty-two weeks. Twelve months.
What will this New Year be like? What does it hold in its hand? Good or Bad? Joy or Sorrow? Laughter or Tears?
Fear cuts so deep it almost takes my breath away. It stalks me in the night and hovers on the edges of my days.
But there is also hope in the promise of a new tomorrow.
Conflicting emotions. Differing thoughts. Overwhelming contemplations.
What will God do in my life this year? So easy to fear. So difficult to trust.
There’s no stopping this advance of time. It slips through my fingers like sand.
So how will I paint my canvas? What shape will I form with the time I’m given?
Pen in hand, poised to write my new year’s resolutions for this two thousand, fourteen year . . .
I can’t help but wonder . . . What will I resolve to do in the fresh days of January, only to leave behind in the weeks to come?
My soul thirsts for something more, something deeper. I long to make a difference. I want my days to count.
The air moves ever so softly, a faint whisper, “Ask me.”
Trembling, I ask, “What do YOU want to do in my life this year? What are YOUR plans for me?”
Lord, write Your plans on my heart. Take this blank canvas, this lump of clay and do what you will. Make my days count. Don't let me squander the hours You have given me. Don't let me waste my days living in the fear of “what if”. Teach me to capture each moment, to live well and to love extravagantly.