Resolutions for a Weary Heart
In a time usually filled with new resolutions and words for the year, is it just me, or has the 2020 PTSD caused you to take pause about penning those new years goals?
I currently wade between hopeful expectancy of a fresh start, and pessimistic apathy because the world has gone crazy so who has time for goals right now? I clearly remember my personal and ministry goals from last year. They were by far the clearest, most specific, most strategic that I have ever written. I was certain that these were the goals that God had laid before me for the upcoming year. Well, we all can guess how those goals went and at this point high fives all around for those who aren’t curled up in a fetal position and still remember how to hug and function as rational human beings.
I would consider myself somewhat of a driven person, but truth be told I would say I have become more of a goal setter rather than one who actually achieves said goals. Apparently, those people actually exist. They make a resolution and actually celebrate its accomplishment at the end of the year. I don’t think I have ever had this experience. I wish I could blame 2020 for this but year after year I find myself falling short.
As a recovering performance junkie, you would think this would really bother me. Strangely, it doesn’t. Don’t get me wrong, the narrative of the hustle culture can dig its dirty claws in if I allow it to. This narrative that says I have to do more, be more, earn more to be loved, successful, and accepted. It’s a narrative of striving and trying. If I lived as a slave to this lie, in this messy year of homeschooling and missed deadlines I would feel like a failure of epic proportions, or at least exhausted from all the striving.
However, for this girl who grew up striving for more love and approval to the point of anxiety, there is nothing more freeing about my position in Christ than realizing I was never meant to be the hero of my story. Instead, the gospel narrative God speaks to us tells us that we are all fully seen, fully known by him, and fully loved and accepted no matter what. Even more, God can take our failures, shortcomings, and the dark parts of our story and make beauty from the ashes. He brings purpose and redemption to it because he is the hero of this narrative not us.
Now, hold on enneagram 3’s. Before you think I’m saying don’t set goals, I’m not. It’s a good thing to want to write a better story with your life and have a plan to get there. What I am saying is that as we stare down at the blank pages of the unwritten story of 2021, which narrative are we going to allow to direct our goals and focuses for the year? A narrative that forces us to hustle more, do more, be more? One that when we fail to be the hero of our own story leaves us holding more feelings of shame and inadequacy? Or the gospel narrative that allows us to strive for dreams and aspirations without striving for love and worth because we already have it. Through trusting the love of God the Father we have been made perfect through Jesus Christ.
So no matter if you are taking 2021 by the horns or walking into the new year with a limp, may you find rest and peace in the gospel narrative that frees us from the need to control the story of our lives. Let’s hold our goals and plans with open hands to a loving God who always writes a better story.