It is cold, I have my cinnamon candle lit, and a hot drink in my hand...it is good to be up and about this morning.
I absolutely love cold mornings.
Life has been (mostly) really good the past two weeks. It is amazing the difference that a year makes. Time passes, sometimes really slow and yet there are those times that it seems to be on hyper speed, like sometimes you blink and it is a new day, week, or even month.
Either way, I love fresh starts.
I love the thought that this year I could conquer that one thing, achieve that one dream, become the mom that I want to be...it is a fresh clean canvas awaiting the colors of life to splatter across it. Yet, even now, on day three of our brand new year, I find myself having to be vigilant to beat down the fear that tries to creep in and smother the canvas with black and grey muted, suffocating colors. The colors that refuse to let anything else be heard or seen, the colors that (to me) represent the thoughts of, 'there is no guarantee this year will be any better than last year' or 'maybe this is just the calm before the storm'...NO. No, even if it isn't any better, I don't want my canvas stained with those awful fears. I want my canvas to be alive with vibrant colors of patience and peace and joy. I want it splattered with the beauty of Jesus, under laid with a solid, sparkling foundation of knowing who God is and what He wants of me. I want it woven throughout with trusting in Him. Completely and totally. And then? Then, I want it capped off with a willingness to suffer what He would have me suffer, a total and complete surrender.
In short, I want my year to be beautiful.