Every year since 2015, I have chosen a word to focus on. To be strictly accurate, sometimes it has been a few words. I call them Words of the Year. I don't do New Year's Resolutions. I do New Year's Words. This is an exercise in learning, in mindfulness, and in examining my heart. I am thankful to the Lord for giving me the idea and helping me grow through it.
Many of these words hang with me: humility, abide, listen. The process teaches me about important ideas and goals. I have never mastered one of my year's words, although God has taught me much along the way. I don't discard my words at the end of a year. I keep them, like a list in my pocket. I could, literally, write them into a list for my pocket, but I would lose the list, so I catalog them here. I revisit them every so often, not probably often enough, but always in January.
Here is the history of my words-of-the-year:
2015--Peace
2016--Restoration (which changed to Goodness, Mercy and Unfailing Love)
2017--Faith and Gratitude (which grew to encompass Joy)
2018--I tried to make my words Power and Glory; however, God said, "Okay, but I actually want you to consider Humility. Looking at my power and glory will help you understand humility."
Looking back, I can see that a fundamental shift occurred in 2018.
I began this exercise in 2015, in response to a heartbreaking relational issue and family crisis. Peace was what I wanted--peace among the members of my family, and freedom from worry and fear in my heart. God responded gently, patiently, and let me spend a year seeking peace.
I petulantly chose Restoration in 2016, because I was tired of waiting, tired of living in a broken place, impatient for things to be fixed and finished. The Lord moved me in a different direction, redirecting my focus to Goodness, Mercy and Unfailing Love--He wanted me to look up at Him, not around at my circumstances.
I made a step of progress in 2017, as I started to understand the importance of not simply "picking a word," but asking the Lord what He wanted me to work on and learn. He led me to pursue Faith and Gratitude that year, then kindly, generously demonstrated to me that His path is the path of Joy.
Nevertheless, in 2018, I tried again to take the helm. I decided it was time for God to act, to show His Power and Glory, time for Him to fix my problems and give me a comfortable life. He did show His power, by unmistakably letting me know that Humility was what I really needed. My power and glory verse, 1 Chronicles 29:11, makes me grateful to be humble.
I never finished with humility. I'm still pondering it, still learning about it. Some days I stand in awe of the beauty of humility, and some days I stand in terror of the process of learning it. Since 2018, I have tried (not necessarily successfully, but with conscious effort) to set aside my own goals, my own ideas of what life should look like, and especially my own timelines. I have tried to entrust everything to God and be thankful that He is in control. I have a prayer that helps me when I pray it: "Thank you Lord Jesus, that I can trust you because you are faithful, and good, and able to do all that you purpose and promise to do, through your almighty power."
2019--I was not done with Humility. My words that year were Humility, Love and Acceptance, but mostly Humility, because Humility is Love and Acceptance. Particularly, Humility is loving people sacrificially by putting their interests above your own, and Humility is accepting what God brings into your life with faith that He is good, wise, and faithful, and can be trusted when nothing seems to make sense.
2020--Abide. This was a good word, something that really cannot happen apart from humility. I need to abide in Christ, and I need Him to abide in me. Neither can happen when I cling to pride.
2021--Listen. This was an important word. 2021 showed me how much I fail to listen. I also learned more about my lack of humility, as--in trying to improve as a listener--I also became more aware of other people's poor listening.
It's discouraging to me when I try to grow in a particular area, and then find myself noticing how others around me lack growth in the same area. So much pride. I can hardly wait to get to heaven and be completely relieved of this monkey on my back, this stinking pride that refuses to let go.
For the past two years, we have quarantined. I have not made many friends in my new state. We go to church, but have not forged relationships there, throughout a year of attending. Granted, we often attend through zoom, and when we go in person, we wear masks. Our other social contact comes through neighborhood and family. We have met some sweet neighbors, outside in our neighborhood. We see my son and his wife and their baby. Occasionally we visit or are visited by family from out of state. But it has been a quiet and lonely two years, even for me, a hard-core introvert. Always skittish of people, I think I have developed some deep fears of people during this hiatus from the discipline of regularly challenging myself to leave my home and participate in the social landscape.
Because of these fears and anxieties, because sitting at home is akin to Abiding, and not talking is something like Listening, I thought perhaps God wanted me to consider the word Confidence this year. I thought He might want me to walk more confidently as His child, in confidence that He loves me, will never forsake me, will complete His good work in me.
Then on New Year's Eve, something happened that rocked me violently. Whatever confidence I had that God was working in me, growing me, forgiving me, and possibly beginning to bear fruit through me, whatever hopes I had that He was accomplishing anything in me, were attacked and battered. Accusations assailed me and cut my legs out from under me, knocked the wind from my lungs: You will never be worthy. You are a farce, a hypocrite. You have failed, and your failures will never be undone. You are awkward, an embarrassment, but even more than that, you are evil. You are guilty. It's all your fault, and you should be ashamed. I looked back through years of old prayer journals. The handwriting, the words looked like someone else's, or like lies. Who are you, to think God would hear those prayers? You think you know Jesus so well, and love Him so much. But nobody who loved Jesus would do the things you've done. You are despicable.
I know that some of these thoughts are accusations from the accuser, from the devil. I know that they are not all true. But the devil is a clever liar. He doesn't tell far-fetched lies. He tells lies that can easily be confused with the truth; that is why his deceptions are successful. I am awkward and do stupid things. I do have a track record of failures. I am guilty of sin. From these truths, it is a quick and easy slide to believing that I am beyond the grace of God's forgiveness, and that none of my spiritual growth could possibly be authentic.
They often say that unforgiveness only hurts the person who refuses to forgive, and I do not know why they say such a thing. Unforgiveness deeply hurts anyone who is longing for forgiveness and reconciliation, and finds them unattainable. When people withhold forgiveness from each other, it makes God's forgiveness very difficult to conceive. How can I decide to walk in the freedom and grace of God's forgiveness, if someone next to me on earth insists that I am unforgivable?
Why did this happen on the eve of my starting a year with the word Confidence? Literally, that is when it happened. I thought I would wake up on January 1 with the word Confidence, and move to get up and out, carrying the light of Christ to places that need Him, because of His power at work within me (Ephesians 3:16, 20). Yet, on December 31, I was struck a blow that made me more inclined than ever to stay in my house, in my bed, with a blanket pulled up over my head.
I do not know if Confidence is the word God has for me this year or not. In the past, when I missed the right word, Jesus gently changed me mid-course. So it's okay; I can start with Confidence and trust the Lord to lead me where He wants me to go.
As I ponder it, I am frightened to think of Confidence being my word, because so often God works in us through creating oppositional circumstances. For instance, we learn patience by enduring circumstances that make us feel impatient. We learn trust by being afraid. We learn joy by finding it in the middle of our sorrows, losses and lack. I can surmise that learning Confidence will come through being mocked and scorned. Well, if that is the case, maybe I did choose the right word, and God started me off on it a day early?
The plan was for Confidence to be the word of 2022.
The scripture, as of now, is
~ 2 Corinthians 3:4-6 ~
Such is the confidence that we have through Christ toward God.
Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us,
but our sufficiency is from God,
who has made us sufficient to be ministers of a new covenant,
not of the letter, but of the Spirit.
For the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.
In other words, through Christ's unfathomable love, demonstrated on the cross, we have access to the Spirit of God, who lives in us, imparts life to us, and makes us sufficient to be His temple and participate in His ministry of lovingly offering life to all who will come. This is our confidence.
2 comments:
The word Confidence is an inspiring word! I love that you can map your growth through tracing your words through the years. Growth is microscopic in the day to day, but looking back like this, one can definitely discern that it has occurred! The past two years have been a petri dish for growth, in my opinion, but the growing pains accompanying it have been excruciating at times.
Your experience on Dec. 31 and your reaction to it, brought to mind this quote: “The acceptance of oneself is the essence of the whole moral problem and the epitome of a whole outlook on life. That I feed the hungry, that I forgive an insult, that I love my enemy in the name of Christ -- all these are undoubtedly great virtues. What I do unto the least of my brethren, that I do unto Christ. But what if I should discover that the least among them all, the poorest of all the beggars, the most impudent of all the offenders, the very enemy himself -- that these are within me, and that I myself stand in need of the alms of my own kindness -- that I myself am the enemy who must be loved -- what then? As a rule, the Christian's attitude is then reversed; there is no longer any question of love or long-suffering; we say to the brother within us "Raca," and condemn and rage against ourselves. We hide it from the world; we refuse to admit ever having met this least among the lowly in ourselves.”
I love that whole quote, but especially the part that declares, "I myself stand in need of the alms of my own KINDNESS". As you wait for the hurt of the other parties to lessen enough to revisit a conversation about the past and forgiveness and restoration of relationships, you can lavish yourself with the kindness and forgiveness you crave.
Thank you for your comment and for sharing the quote. Carl Jung?
It is an interesting quote.
Recently I have been trying to read a book called Gentle and Lowly: The Heart of Christ for Sinners and Sufferers. I gave up after awhile because the author kept using the phrase, "Jesus can't." He used it in a context where he meant that Jesus will never act in a way that conflicts with His character and essence, which are powerfully rooted in love and mercy. I understand, and do not disagree. However, the phrase, "Jesus can't," was just too much for me to get past. I had to give up reading the book.
I mention this because the beginning of the Jung quote, "The acceptance of oneself is the essence of the whole moral problem..." is similarly difficult for me to get past, although I agree that your favorite part: "I myself stand in need of the alms of my own kindness," is both true and helpful.
I wish I had begun to understand more truth about grace much earlier in my life. I literally lived for decades believing that I am morally obligated to punish myself for my shortcomings, whether they be wasting gas by getting lost while out doing errands, letting an avocado rot on the counter before I remembered to eat it, posting unkind sentiments on Facebook, speaking careless or unkind words, or lashing out at someone in anger. The problem, of course, is that being hard on oneself leads one to be similarly hard on others, which is especially harmful if the sins in question are rooted in negativity, criticism, or anger. One absolutely gets locked into a cycle of doom that worsens as time goes on.
I do need to be kind to myself, because God is kind to me. Who am I to condemn and punish anyone on whom God has lavished saving grace, even if "anyone" is me? While I was still a desperate sinner, Christ died for me (Romans 5:8). God promises to forgive me, cleanse me, and make me into a new person with a new and improved heart. God is patient with me as I undergo the transformation He is working in me, and I need to be patient too, even--and this is the really hard part--when other people may not be patient with me, or willing to acknowledge the work God has already done in me.
If we could grasp the importance of every little thing, before we mess so many of them up. If we could see what pain so many momentary failures will wreak in the future, in time to change direction and avoid them. And what of the failures that we perceived and desperately battled to overcome, but failed, even with many prayers and much searching scripture?
It's a very strange paradox, this needing grace, and not deserving grace (but of course grace is, by definition, undeserved), and trying to figure out how to lay hold of grace while eyes around me narrow in scorn at the thought of me receiving it.
This is illustrative of the flaw in Critical Race Theory, I think. You can't achieve harmony among people by simply taking turns wielding power and punishing those from whom you have taken power. In my childhood, they way they put it was, "Two wrongs don't make a right."
As I receive God's grace, I must in turn grant grace: to myself, yes, as well as to others. I think what I need to aim for is a heart that can freely say, "I am sorry that I caused pain. Because God forgives and accepts me, I can lay down my self-protection before others and graciously lay myself open to whatever they may do to me in retaliation. Yet, at the same time, God does not ask me to despise myself. Rather, I think He wants me to pray for others to be delivered from bitterness, hate and unforgiveness, not because I need it--my needs must be met in Christ--but because they need this freedom that comes from grace.
I'm not there yet, but I think I am heading the right way.
"The Lord your God will fight for you, and you have only to be silent."
Exodus 14:14
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