Please be kind.
You hold so much promise--12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days, 8,760 hours, 525,600 minutes. There is so much time for adventures, for sweet memories, for triumphs, for new beginnings. Oh what I can do with all that time. But, there is so much time for heartbreak, for loss, for failures, for endings. The bad is bound to happen with all that time.
Please be kind.
I look forward to all your months, weeks, days, hours, and minutes. I look into you seeing a new version of myself. A self, that today, I feel I need to change. I feel I need a resolution to feel complete. This version of myself I feel is better than the me today, but the me today may not be the me tomorrow. That me may not want to change. That me may not follow through with the resolutions you have asked me to decide today. With all that time, there is room for change. I pray for the better. I hope I can achieve the goals I set today. I will set out, in your abundance of time, with every intention of being a better person. To be more wise. To be stronger. To be more faithful. To be fitter. To be more compassionate. I will set out to do more. To help more. To read more. To pray more. To laugh more. To clean more. To breathe more. To explore more. To try more.
I am bound to not meet my expectations. With all those intentions I am bound to mess up, and that's okay.
Please be kind.
In 12 months I hope for adventures. I hope for trips with the people I love. The kind of trips I will hold in my heart for the rest of my life. The kind of trips I forget to take pictures of, because I am caught in the moment. The kind of trips with windows down, with music so loud it bounces off your heart in your chest, with bellies full of aching laughter, with cherry coke and peach rings and long conversations.
In your 52 weeks I hope for new things. I hope for new experiences, new friends, new books, new songs, new loves, new places, new dreams. Oh how I hope you are full of new books. The kind of books that keep me up until 3am waiting for the end. Books that hold that used book smell. Books that have other peoples thoughts and markings throughout the margins. Books that are so heartbreaking I cannot read another book for weeks. Books that are so good I cannot contain my excitement for sharing with my friends. Oh how I hope you are full of new places. New towns with quaint boutiques and food that reaches your soul. New hideouts in nature that make me stop in bewilderment at God's creation. New coffee shops. Please hold new coffee shops with coffee that makes my tastebuds cheerful. Coffee that comes with a side of deep conversation and sweet friends.
In your 365 days I hope for discovery. I hope that I can uncover the parts of myself I do not know exist. I hope that I can find God's path for my life. I hope that I can discover who I am supposed to be. I hope I can discover where I am going, and when I get there it feels just right.
In your 8,760 hours I hope for Jesus. I hope that the love God showed me through Jesus enters my heart more than ever this year. I hope my actions and choices reflect Christ's works. I hope that I can love the way Jesus loved. I hope that I can have faith in our Father the way Jesus did the moment he knew his brutal end for my sins.
In your 525,600 minutes I hope for happiness. I hope for happiness that reflects off of me and onto others. I hope for the kind of happiness people can see in the crinkles of my eyes and nose. I hope for happiness that wells up in my heart and rests there for a while.
I hope for the best. I hope for all the good things. 2018, please don't hold the worst. Please don't hold too much bad. I know there will be some. Every year has its ups and downs. But right now, you are shiny and new. Do not grow dull.
If you do, please be kind.
2018, you hold so much promise. Almost too much promise. With that promise for adventure, and for new things, and for discovery, and for Jesus, and for happiness...well, comes my nature. I am bound to mess up, and that's okay.
When I do, please be kind.
