All our attempts to celebrate New Year’s Eve fell through, so a friend suggested we just celebrate later and call it “Happy Old Year" party. I am VERY into parties that have a dash of strangeness to them, and this excites me more than if our plans had worked out.

It also made me chuckle because it seemed like a nudge of God’s elbow, him once again, in a season of newness, drawing me back to oldness. In church New Year's Eve morning, I kept thinking over and over again how for me, in this season, I do not believe God is calling me to anything new. I think he’s calling me to something old, something eternal.

Of course, I want a perfectly organized closet and to finally master meal planning, but I have decided that it’s better for me to practice restraint, to resist the shiny allure of “get your life together.” To not yield my best brain space and energy to control, organize, plan, and declutter. God may impress upon my heart the need for new strategies and habits as the year goes by, but right now, nothing new. Right now, just something old: the eternal truths and story of the gospel.

Jesus took my shame—I do not have to live under it any longer.

Jesus gave me his righteousness—I do not have to manufacture my own.

Jesus yielded his will unto death—I can yield my will because he went first.

It makes me think of the most exciting line I’ve heard pastor’s say in a baptism. After we are symbolically buried into the waters, we are lifted up: “raised to walk in newness of life.” True newness of life is from God alone, and it's an ancient business.

In 2018, may we cling to the oldest truths for the most profound renewal. Perhaps the best fresh start is not an implementation of new things, but a refreshed understanding of eternal things.

(Want to read more about New Year's and New Year's Resolutions? See my last post.)