A New Year, a new moment, a new day. I will be honest with you…I delighted in Christmas this past December, but I felt my heart falter at the thought of welcoming 2022. Normally, I would be writing my goals with fervor and dreaming of the adventures the next year would hold—staying up through New Year’s Eve filled with the excitement that opening a new book brings. If there’s adventure, I want to experience it.
But this time…
I felt leery. I felt the binding of caution.
This was also the first new year I asked God for a word to walk with. In some strange way, I felt I needed it. I needed something to hold close to my heart as I stepped into this new year. I think my heart was asking God for the capacity to journey into the unknown—yet again—after these past two years filled with so much…
There’s been so much.
The close of the year tiptoed with my heart to the edge. We all looked down.
My God met us there. He met me with the memories I felt. The weight of the world I held out to Him. The past couple of years, God…You see them, right?
I do not doubt that my God is with me in all things, along every path, guiding me always upon the mountains. But perhaps this time, I wanted permission to look down at my feet while I walked—the allowance to escape the sting of looking up and seeing yet another hill ahead of me.
It was there, at the edge of this young year, I felt older in my spirit—heavier of heart. And it was there, my God said, “I’ve seen. And I know.”
It was there He took his hand and lifted my chin.
“Courage, Dear Heart.”
Courage.
“Look up,” He said. “Behold my goodness. Behold my faithfulness.”
Look up at the new year—at the path ahead of you. Look up and behold the Light of Christ.
Behold. That’s the second word He gave me for this waking year. I wanted a single word…but now I see they are a beautiful pair. We behold Christ, who God is. Beholding leads us to trusting, and in trusting we find courage. Courage inspires action. We take the next step.
It’s something I myself have told so many weary hikers as I’ve led them up long, mountain paths. “Look up!” I’d tell them, “There’s so much to see.” When we all look up from our mud-covered boots and the rocks that line the way, we see the big picture. The beauty of the mountain-scape surrounding us. The sky. The wildflowers so small that if you aren’t paying attention…you miss their exquisite existence entirely. You see those surrounding you. You see the hand extended to help you up the next boulder.
There’s so much to behold. So much beauty ahead. So much goodness.
We frighten our minds with the heights, the cliffs, the forks in the road we don’t expect. And sometimes…we let ourselves become gun-shy of the unknown path. We freeze our hearts in the fatal comfort of caution.
But it’s in the unknown we discover ourselves. We fall more deeply in love with Christ. It’s there we build our mettle and tend our hope.
It’s in the unknown we behold miracles.
“For I, the Lord your God,
hold your right hand;
it is I who say to you, ‘Fear not,
I am the one who helps you.’” - Isaiah 41:13