Welcome to my Blog! Occasional is the right word for it, too, now that I’ve missed my target date of January 1. How did that happen? But, to use an old cliche, better late than never, right?
Still, with all those voices out in cyberspace fighting for a spot at the e-table, do we really need one more? Hey, a writer’s gotta write, right? Besides, I’m committed to using this venue to keep my Web site more up-to-date and share a bit of my days with anyone who cares to listen. But only occasionally.
During the first week of 2010, you probably heard the same discussions I did about resolutions and goals and all those troublesome topics. Usually, I just smiled and said, “That sounds like a good idea.” Or nodded a little to show my solidarity. But history reminds me that my resolution will doubtless be broken before the weekend, no matter how much gusto I put into establishing a worthy goal. I’m not proud of it, but why waste a perfectly good resolution if you’re going to trash it as soon as no one is looking? That’s just not good stewardship in my book.
There are so many great goals still stored in my resolution pantry, too. Pushed way to the back, leftovers from previous years. Pledges like: I resolve to walk on that blasted treadmill, to spend more time with family, get more sleep, write every day, practice hospitality, eat healthy, and to be truly kind – a long-held desire of my heart.
Yet over and over, I fail to meet my standard on these goals, whether I make them official or not. When I see that others seem to make positive change as the new year progresses, I wonder why it is so hard for me to do the same? What am I missing? What is the secret?
Over the holidays, I spent precious time with my two-year-old grand-daughter, Sidney. Whenever we gals (Sidney, my daughter, and I) got ready to do something together, Sidney would ask, “Daddy come, too?” Almost as if she felt incomplete unless her Daddy came along. I loved watching her run to the door when her father returned from a bike ride and squeal “Daddy!” as he scooped her up. Or when she’d wait at the patio doors, watching him work in the back yard, her heart longing to be outside beside him with her tiny rake.
Matthew 18 tells us to come as little children, that we might enter the kingdom of heaven. To possess a childlike spirit, trusting the Father like my grandchild trusts her parents. For everything. That is a simple explanation, of course, but the illustration of that childlike faith I see in Sidney causes me to think it is the simple solution to my resolution dilemma. What if I forget about pursuing all those good goals and focus instead, on spending more time with my Father?
I like the freedom in that. He, and not I, will initiate all those positive changes in me. Hanging out with Daddy is the secret!
Thanks, Sidney, for the reminder.