I know many of you are expecting a blog post about Tyler’s and my engagement, but I need a little more distance (and time) to put that together. Instead, I want to talk about 2018. People usually post New Year’s Resolutions and the like in January, but I’m a rebel and not going to do it that way.
I did make a resolution for 2018, but I’m not going to talk about that. It’s not that interesting. (Okay, fine. I resolved not to buy as many new hardcover books. Yay Gottwals and county library and eBooks.)
However, I also chose a word for the year: believe.
Believe I can be a novelist.
Believe I can change my habits.
Believe my relationship will get stronger.
Believe in God’s sovereignty.
Believe the best of the person I’m in conflict with.
Believe that I can be adventurous again.
Believe that wedding planning can be more fun than stressful.
Believe that I can like my body more than I do now.
Believe that I can be a good friend while being a spouse and full-time employee.
Believe that I can be a good spouse while being a full-time employee and friend.
Believe that I can be a good employee while… you get the idea.
I’ve been shaking the branches of the internet (mostly on Etsy, if I’m honest) looking for a small sign with my word on it, which I can put on my desk at work and on my wall at home.
I want a reminder. It doesn’t do me any good to have a word for the year if I don’t remember it and don’t try to act on it.
While cleaning one night in February, I came across a printed photo of myself in Egypt my senior year of college. I’m standing in front of an ancient volcano in the Black Desert (so called because the soil of the volcanos has eroded and now the desert is covered in the black, broken up pieces of the cooled magma). I’m wearing my favorite shirt. My hair is golden from time in the sun. I can see my shape. It was an incredible trip, full of struggles but also rich in joy and knowledge and confidence and good health and adventure.
I slipped the photo into a cheap plastic frame and took it to work. Now it sits beside my monitor, in front of the hand sanitizer bottle, and I look at it multiple times a day.
It doesn’t make me feel badly. In the weeks the photo’s been there, I haven’t once bemoaned what I’ve lost since then. I feel inspired by my past self and I feel encouraged because she is me. She became me. My life is one of the ones she dreamed for herself, and in many ways is even better than she’d hoped. In ways, I can be her again.
I can take a painting class because I used to enjoy it.
I can reconcile with people who have hurt me.
I can resist the candy bowl on the corner of my desk.
I can drink more water.
I can learn the names of more countries.
I can start a new story.
I can slay the Jabberwocky.
She believed she could so she did.
—R. S. Grey
Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.