resolution revolution

focus. clarity. I don’t know about you, but New Year’s Resolutions always used to leave me feeling like a big fat failure. Six weeks into the new year, inevitably I’d barely be able to recall what was on my lofty list of goals... which meant I’d obviously not been doing much to work on them.

I’d beat myself up over it, and try harder. But in an oddly contradictory kind of way, making a list of resolutions paralyzed me from achieving them. It was a mental roadblock I just couldn’t seem to conquer. So I scrapped the idea altogether.

And in my own personal resolution revolution, I started choosing just One Word to focus on all year. 

Just One Word, because that’s easy to remember all year long. I place visible reminders of it around my home and workspace, keeping my word ever before me.

It’s become a spiritual discipline of sorts.

Each year, my One Word stands as a touchstone: a reminder not of what I need to do, but of who I want to be.

It becomes the filter through which I make decisions; the home-base to which I return when I’m unsure which way to go. It forces clarity and helps me concentrate my efforts, energy, and time on intentional growth.

It’s a simple concept, but not an easy one. My One Word has always been a challenge more than a comfort. It’s like a pebble in my shoe—an unavoidable nuisance, a constant nudge, a discomfort that causes me to walk differently.

I always have a love/hate relationship with my One Word—and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I figure if it doesn’t scare me at least a little, it’s probably not the right word.

Many of the Deeper Story writers have embraced the One Word practice as well, and found it equally life-changing:

Sarah Bessey: "As the year unfolded, I began to realise that my little nudge to choose Fearless was more of a gigantic shove off a cliff by the Holy Spirit, a sort of dinner bell clanging “COME AND GET IT!” for almost every fear and insecurity I’ve petted, hidden, and indulged in my life. I don’t think I’m fearless now. Not by a long shot. I am braver. I am practicing fearlessness, over and over, with the hope it takes deep hold in my life. I want to carry this word with me, for the rest of my life, every day. This has profoundly changed me."

Kelley Nikondeha: "My word for 2012 was Covenant. The word unfolded as commitment, life-long fidelity and tethering to traditions that anchor and nourish me. I found covenant touched my connection to God, to my spouse and even my children—how do I lean into fidelity toward them daily? One Word allows me to focus, the word works on me and in me mysteriously. But, as a cognitive girl, I also allow the definition of the word to flower and unfold over the year so that the meaning is richer now than before."

Elora Ramirez: "Two years ago, my word for the year collided with my heart. As I glanced around at the shattered pieces around me, I wondered how in the world God would bring jubilee to such a place as this :: a broken hope, wounded and wanting. And this past year? He wanted me to abide. For a girl who runs – for a heart that hides – this proved excruciating. I will not lie :: these past two years have been hard. But what’s left is beautiful – a deeper understanding of His love, a freedom to live in His light and a readiness to breathe deep and jump."

Will you join us in our resolution revolution?

Quiet your heart and see what word rises to the surface. Who do you want to be? What character trait do you want to intentionally develop? How do you want to live your life?

Let’s focus this year not on doing more, but on being who we were created to be. 

 

Once you've landed on your word, write a blog post about it, and post it on January 4th to join in our synchroblog. Then add it to the community link-up on the One Word 365 site.

{photo credit}

Originally posted on A Deeper Story. Read the comments there >

one word: enough

I have lived my life on a treadmill of striving.

Always working hard to get things just right... trying to please everybody around me... thinking if I could just do more or do better, then maybe—just maybe—I'd be enough.

The tracks are stuck on repeat in my mind, telling me I'm not smart enough, not cool enough, not spiritual enough, not lovable enough, not _____ enough. Which leaves me just trying to run faster on the treadmill: exhausted, but no further along than I was before.

This year, I'm choosing to step off the treadmill, to shatter the record that's been skipping for 34 years. My One Word for 2013 is enough.

No matter what labels others stick on me—or even that I stick on myself—His banner over me is love.

I am His.

I am loved.

I am enough.

My One Words the past few years have all been verbs—RiskLook. Choose. This year, I needed a word that reminds me—even in its form of speech—that it's not about doing more, but about being who He created me to be. And simply embracing my enoughness rather than striving to accomplish something.

I am not perfect, but I am enough.

I am not more than, not less than. But I am enough.

I won't always fit in, or feel valued, or be loved well. But still, I am enough.

I won't get everything right or accomplish as much as others do (or as much as I want to). I will mess up, falter, and fail. I will hurt and be hurt. I may be discarded, forgotten, replaced. But I am enough.

Those three simple words—I am enough—are so difficult for me to say. To accept. To believe. But I want them to sink down deep in my heart.

I am equally terrified and intrigued to see how enough will grow me this year. Here's to the journey!

Have you chosen your One Word for 2013?

rearview mirror: choose

Choose.

It's the one power I really have. I don't have control. I can't dictate my circumstances or call the shots on what happens to me. But I can always determine how I will choose to respond.

That part is mine and mine alone.

My choice is always entirely up to me.

It doesn't depend on my situation or those around me. It isn't dictated by what's going on in my world or in my heart. My power to choose rests solely on my shoulders.

Sometimes I forget that. Sometimes I despise it. And sometimes I cling to it like the life preserver that it is — mindful enough to lift my eyes, take a deep breath, and choose.

There were times this year that I chose joy. Patience. A soft word. I chose to trust when my heart didn't want to. To give grace when it hurt to. To extend grace to myself when I felt I didn't deserve it.

I chose to keep breathing, keep walking, keep loving, keep believing.

I chose to engage when I felt like withdrawing, and I chose to walk away when that was the healthiest course. I chose to love loudly even after I've been hurt. To lean in when I felt like retreating.

I chose to celebrate with others their victories, and grieve with them their heartaches.

I chose to use my words, written and spoken. I chose to hold and give and serve. To engage and work and create. To see and to make feel seen.

I chose to not give up, to turn the other cheek, to stand up for myself. I chose to seek out His divine fingerprints even in darkness and pain.

I chose.

There were also countless occasions I let slip by without willfully choosing anything. And I discovered that my un-choosing was a choice all in itself.

So while I haven't always gotten it right, I'm grateful for this year of intentionally remembering to choose.

I'm thankful for the new habit of being mindful of my response, inward and outward. And while I move into a new year with a new One Word, my commitment to choose goes with me — along with my diligence to look and to risk.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, I don't like everything I see. But ultimately I see growth. Progress. Change. And that makes me choose to smile and whisper, "Thank You."

 

Did you write a year-end wrap-up post for your One Word 365? Be sure to go link it up HERE >

Emmanuel: God with us (DS)

"Give us an advent spirit," he whispered as he ended his prayer for our meal. And as we picked up forks and drinks and napkins, that phrase kept bumping around inside me. And it bumps still. I don't feel expectant or joyfully waiting, and so I'm struck by those words. Give me an advent spirit.

The weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas have always been my favorite time of year. No matter which side of the ocean I was celebrating on, I waited expectantly all year for the sights, sounds, and smells of this beautiful season.

But that was before the darkness creeped in, marring my whole world and tainting even the holidays I loved. Now this time of year feels like labored breathing. It's exhausting. Hard. Like I'm just waiting for it to end instead of wishing it would linger a while longer like I once did.

This year, I've been intentional to remember my power to choose. And right now more than ever I'm forced to remember that joy really is my choice. No matter the circumstance or the feeling. And while the holidays aren't as sweet or as magical as they once were, I can still choose to find joy within them.

There's a reason we sing, "O tidings of comfort and joy." Somehow, the two hold hands.

And so I put lights on the wooden giraffe by my front door. I placed a nativity on my mantle. I strung lights into wine bottles strewn about my apartment. I stare often at my star-topped tree that stands as a beacon of light, pushing back the darkness. Comfort and joy.

In the words of Elisabeth Elliot—"Joy is not the absence of suffering, but the presence of God."

And what better time than right now to take comfort in that. To allow my heart to breathe, to hope, to anticipate. Because no matter what, God's presence abides...

Emmanuel. God with us.

And because He is here, I can choose joy.

For those, like me, who find the holidays uniquely heartsore, will you join me in choosing to discover joy and comfort in the presence of God, made visible in a manger filled with hay? Let's "lift our eyes", being purposeful to not only seek but also to be comfort and joy.

And for those who love this season, will you be intentional to remember that it is bittersweet for many? Open your eyes and hearts to see the heartsore among you. Extend invitations. Hug tightly. Through you, others can be reminded that God sees and knows and cares.

God is with us.

Comfort and joy, friends...

Originally posted on A Deeper Story. Read the comments there >