It's New Year's Eve. Again. To many, it's an annual a day of reflection, soul-searching, goal-setting, planning and making a brand new shiny list of life-changing resolutions for the shiny brand new year. I won't need to do that - I can just pull out the list from last year:
Losing weight. Living a healthier lifestyle. Saving money (a lot of it). Getting organized. Reading the Bible all the way through.
If history has taught me anything, it's that, come mid-January, my weight will be the same, My Reeboks will still be in the same corner. I'll still be broke, my closets will still be danger zones (only if you open the doors), and the bookmark in my Bible will still be stuck in Genesis. And I'll feel guilty. I've let the New Year down again.
But, not this year. For me, 2011 will be the Year of Living In The Now.
Don't get me wrong - making plans and having goals are good things. I remember Adrian Rogers saying, "If you aim at nothing, you'll hit it every time." What I'm talking about is living my life TODAY, in the now. Doing what I can do today to make a difference.
I'm thinking this is even biblical. Proverbs 27:1 says "Do not boast about tomorrow, for you do not know what a day may bring forth." James tells me (in chapter 4, verse 14) that I don't know what will happen tomorrow, that my life is a mist that appears for a while, and then vanishes. And Jesus Himself said, "Do not worry about tomorrow, for each day has enough trouble of its own." (Matt. 6:34)
One Day At A Time thinking. I'm calling it Living In The Now. Not spending so much time regretting what I did or didn't do yesterday, or what may happen tomorrow that it sucks the joy out of living today. If my focus is on yesterday's failures or tomorrow's problems, I'll miss today's opportunities.
So, today, I will ask God to help me make good choices - in what I eat, how I spend my time, the money I make or spend, the words I say.
Today, I will share a kind word with a sad, struggling soul, hug someone I love a little tighter, and look for a way to serve a stranger. I will pray for someone else today.
Today, I will spend time in God's Word. I'll talk to Him, and, more importantly, I'll listen to Him.
Today, I will take a walk. I'll take a few minutes to think, to reflect, to be grateful.
Today, I will treasure the gift of these 24 hours, knowing they are a gift from my Maker.
Today, I will Live In The Now.
I'll check back with you next New Year's Eve and let you know how my year went.
"Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom." Psalm 90:12
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Ladies and Gentlemen: Santa Claus Has Left The Building
It finally came. The year my sentimental mommy-heart has dreaded for 17 years of mothering. This was the first year that Santa Claus did not visit the Inman home.
'Bout time, I guess. My babies are now 17, 14 and 12, and are all taller than me. We had a great Christmas, overloaded with loud, crazy family, our own goofy traditions, way too much food, sweet worship at church, and the kids were genuinely tickled with their four gifts a piece, this year, from their dad and me. No one seemed to miss Santa a bit.
So, why do I write this with a tear in my eye? I guess it kind of marks a "rite of passage." We don't have little children in our home anymore.
The Santa Claus Years were so sweet. In all honesty, Phil and I have been more reluctant to say good-bye to them than the kids. (We threatened them when they asked questions over the years - "OK, I'll tell you the truth about Santa, but the year you stop believing is the year your get nothing but socks and underwear for Christmas." - that hushed them up for another year.) We will always remember leaving cookies and milk out for Santa's snack, waiting for our excited kiddos to finally fall asleep on Christmas Eve, tiptoeing around a dark house, being pounced on by 3 giggling mini-maniacs (joined by their 100 lb. Golden Retriever) jumping on our bed way before dawn, their sleepy eyes opening wide, drinking in all the loot that "magically" appeared, and the train wreck that our den became for the next several days as we tripped over toys and boxes and searched frantically for batteries.
But the most meaningful thing to watch, even as our children were completely enjoying their Santa Claus Years, was them falling in love with Jesus, each one in their own time, and in their own way. We have been so blessed see each one of them love the Baby Jesus, eventually receiving and embracing Him as their Savior. Their very own. They've said good-bye to Santa Claus, but their souls will live forever.
No, we don't have little children in our home anymore. It's gotten even better. We have three growing Christians. We have three Disciples. We have three Masterpieces, still under the careful construction of the Master Himself. We have three young adults who are teaching their mom and dad more about the goodness of God than we will ever teach them.
So, the Christmas that I have dreaded has come and gone. And, you know, I believe it was our best Christmas yet. I enjoy my children at their present ages and stages so much now that I want to freeze this moment in time. But I've said that for the past 17 years. Every year has been my favorite year. Just when I think it can't get any better, it does. That's the way it is when we walk with Jesus.
So, in the Inman home, Santa Claus has left the building. And I'll treasure these next few years more than solid gold.
For now.
Someday, I'll have grandbabies . . .
'Bout time, I guess. My babies are now 17, 14 and 12, and are all taller than me. We had a great Christmas, overloaded with loud, crazy family, our own goofy traditions, way too much food, sweet worship at church, and the kids were genuinely tickled with their four gifts a piece, this year, from their dad and me. No one seemed to miss Santa a bit.
So, why do I write this with a tear in my eye? I guess it kind of marks a "rite of passage." We don't have little children in our home anymore.
The Santa Claus Years were so sweet. In all honesty, Phil and I have been more reluctant to say good-bye to them than the kids. (We threatened them when they asked questions over the years - "OK, I'll tell you the truth about Santa, but the year you stop believing is the year your get nothing but socks and underwear for Christmas." - that hushed them up for another year.) We will always remember leaving cookies and milk out for Santa's snack, waiting for our excited kiddos to finally fall asleep on Christmas Eve, tiptoeing around a dark house, being pounced on by 3 giggling mini-maniacs (joined by their 100 lb. Golden Retriever) jumping on our bed way before dawn, their sleepy eyes opening wide, drinking in all the loot that "magically" appeared, and the train wreck that our den became for the next several days as we tripped over toys and boxes and searched frantically for batteries.
But the most meaningful thing to watch, even as our children were completely enjoying their Santa Claus Years, was them falling in love with Jesus, each one in their own time, and in their own way. We have been so blessed see each one of them love the Baby Jesus, eventually receiving and embracing Him as their Savior. Their very own. They've said good-bye to Santa Claus, but their souls will live forever.
No, we don't have little children in our home anymore. It's gotten even better. We have three growing Christians. We have three Disciples. We have three Masterpieces, still under the careful construction of the Master Himself. We have three young adults who are teaching their mom and dad more about the goodness of God than we will ever teach them.
So, the Christmas that I have dreaded has come and gone. And, you know, I believe it was our best Christmas yet. I enjoy my children at their present ages and stages so much now that I want to freeze this moment in time. But I've said that for the past 17 years. Every year has been my favorite year. Just when I think it can't get any better, it does. That's the way it is when we walk with Jesus.
So, in the Inman home, Santa Claus has left the building. And I'll treasure these next few years more than solid gold.
For now.
Someday, I'll have grandbabies . . .
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