I first heard of New Year’s resolutions in high school. Several classmates were making a list. I made a list and happily told my parents. They frowned. “That’s a Catholic thing, not a Christian thing,” they said.
(In our fundamentalistic world, Catholics were not Christians since they were not born-again and did not place the Bible above the pope.)
“Catholics hope to save themselves by doing good works. Real Christians don’t need to. We are saved by faith in Jesus. Heaven is guaranteed. Secured. Nothing more need be done.”
(You must admit that’s a pretty good deal if you can get it.)
Well, I said, what if I resolve to have more faith in Jesus this year?
“Faith isn’t like that. Either you have it or you don’t. You’re a mustard seed or you’re not.”
I finally saw how that works.
EUREKA!
Either you’re pregnant or you’re not.
So this year I will not aim to be all that I can be. I am all that I can be. Already.
This year I will not aim to be here now. I am here now. Already.
This year I will not aim to breathe in and out. I am breathing in and out. Already.
This year I will not aim to let it all hang out. I am letting it all hang out. Already. Here and now.
This year I will not aim to be the one I’m waiting for. I am the one I’ve been waiting for. Already.
This year I will not aim to be myself. I am myself. Already.
(And you are me as I am you as we are altogether.)
This year I will not aim to be the hero of my own story. I am the hero of my own story. Already. I’ve spread my wings. I’m soaring like an eagle. I am a rose. I am a rock. I am a bridge over troubled water.
I am the champion of the world.
This year I will not aim to be delusional. I am. Already.
There are many noble New Year’s resolutions. Perhaps you’ve made a few. But if you have time for only one, resolve to make this your daily mantra:
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
And that will be enough.