There are some years that stand out more than others. For me, 2015 was such a year. I suspect that even several years from now, I’ll point to that one and remember how much it strained, shattered, and slowly remade me.
And now it’s come to an end. There were days when I had no idea who or where I would be by this point. Yet here I am, officially calling it “last year” and looking ahead to the untouched days of “this year.”
Since grade school, I’ve been a resolution person. I like making lists and dreaming big. New Year’s holds such promise, and that energy always inspires me to make a bunch of my own promises.
Drink more water, eat less sugar, get in shape, stick to a sleep schedule and a budget. Track everything in a planner, be consistent with blogging, develop my skills at writing. Keep in touch with friends and relatives, send handwritten letters, create more opportunities for ministry, develop stronger leadership skills. Study music, earn a high GPA, build websites, find time for hobbies. Prioritize my relationship with God, read the Bible in a year, pray daily, fast weekly.
That list has looped through my brain since December. Just looking at it makes me feel like I’ve failed. Every single thing on it is important. Accomplishing them would be beneficial. Yet if I already feel overwhelmed, an hour into the New Year, how am I going to feel by the end of January?
So although I would love to conquer each of those goals, I’m making a different choice for 2016. I’m summing up my intentions with a single word instead of bullet points or bulky paragraphs.
As I was journaling last week, well past midnight, I stumbled into the word that will be my mantra for this year. I was struggling against the weight of an entire year, and I felt God whisper that word into my mind.
Resurgam. It’s a Latin phrase, but the meaning is simple: I will rise again.
After 2015 exhausting me in almost every way, I want 2016 to be about one thing. Rising again; above everything that’s happened, and everything that may yet happen. So my resolution this year isn’t defined by what I accomplish, and how many things I check off that endless list. I’m not going to “fail” my goals this year, because my focus makes “failure” irrelevant.
When I fall, for fall I will, I haven’t failed. I can rise again. And again. As many times as it takes. The grace of Jesus means that as long as I have breath, I have a chance. I can take the nail-scarred hand He offers me and stand up, no matter how hard I fall.
When I struggle to pray, I will remember “resurgam,” and try again.
When I make a wrong choice, I will tell myself “resurgam.”
When I feel overwhelmed, I will be reminded of “resurgam.”
I wish I could say that I won’t experience low points in 2016 the way I did in 2015. But I can’t. I don’t know what awaits me in the next 365 days. A new year doesn’t guarantee a perfect, or even completely good, one. All it guarantees is a chance to reflect, and reset. A chance to declare “resurgam.”
I’ll take that chance. And into 2016, I will rise again.
Do you have resolutions or a specific word for your year?