It’s three days into 2018, and I’ve avoided writing this. Why? Because really it is a confession that, underneath it all my perky, I am a Scrooge.
In the past, I have been on both sides of the resolution-fence – the side that makes and the side that rejects. This year, after a long, grumpy period of being a rejector (no judgement), I felt myself shifting.
Like an icy breeze blowing in through poorly insulated windows, it was unexpected. Brr.
When I first felt it seeping in, I turned my back to it, pretending it wasn’t there. But now it is January 3rd, and what was a little chill has turned into something I have to address before I freeze to death.
I need to make a resolution, and I think you do, too. Here’s why.
The Case for New Year’s Resolutions
This really doesn’t require a paragraph – or even it’s own section in a blog article most people won’t have time to read – but if for no other reason than it will be therapeutic for me, I have to write it out.
The reason you should keep making New Years resolutions is this:
I those of us who have made resolutions before start every year with good intentions. And I know “the road to hell…” and all that. And I know most of us have a history of floundering over and falling off and altogether failing to keep them through January.
What happens if we stop making them?
If you’re type A like me, when you don’t make a resolution you don’t stop trying in life. I am always striving harder and faster and for longer than many people I know. So resolutions have no impact on “trying” one way or another.
I suspect “other types” of people just get down on themselves – yay, self-hate – or cycle through some other emotional devastation before becoming rejector-Scrooges like me.
I have noticed, after many years of wiping the slate clean and leaving it blank, after looking at a new canvas and not projecting anything onto it, after admiring freshly fallen snow and leaving it without its token snow angel…
it is harder to hope.
Three days into 2018, I feel a little bit void. A little bit numb. A little bit frozen. When the cheery cashier says, “Happy New Year,” as I hoist my grocery bags into my weary hands and start to walk away, I feel my insides respond, “So what?”
Ugh. I prefer the perky me, the hopeful me, the glass-half-full me – especially if the likelihood that nothing will change in 2018 is an actual reality, don’t you?
Perky is better. It’s approachable. It’s less scary. People like it.
So I propose that if we make a resolution, if we resolve ourselves to try something new, get better at something, renew a practice, prioritize a goal – whatever it is – we will also resolve to hope, get better at hope, renew our hope, prioritize hope.
I believe if we start every year with a new resolution, we will find more hope.
Hope to be better, get better, feel better, do better – even if we fail.
What do you think?
This year, I hope to love others well. Or well-er. And that, I hope, means something very exciting for The Family Bind.
Because in an effort to love others well-er, over the next year, I resolve to create a few email and Facebook challenges for my readers to do the same.
- Wives: The first challenge will be to wives and will launch in February. Keep an eye out for details about that coming – I hope – by the end of the week.
- Blended Family Parents: There will also be a challenge around loving our kids better in the summer while many of us blended family people face extended periods away from them.
- All of Us: And the final challenge of the year will be for everyone as we move into the season we just left, Christmas. And it will address how to give gifts that show love.
What I hope will come from these challenges is warmth.
Warmth is powerful. Warmth is inherent to love. With warmth, I think we can help each other grow a generation of children who do great things despite all circumstances – because they know they are loved.
It’s a big hope, I know!
Will you hold me accountable? And will you give me grace if I fail? I hope so!
Follow/subscribe to the TFB blog to do so. (There’s a pink button on this page that says “‘Box me.”) I hope you do…
Happy New Year, my friends. May it be filled with hope and love.