A faith leap into 2015

I've always had a hard time working my way into the new year. It's all exciting at first, with the long buildup of Christmas and parties and family and friends and New Year's celebrations. But man, I always struggle with the sudden and stark transition into January at the beginning of each year.

I have an endless list of blessings to be completely grateful for and a fresh new year on the horizon, yet here I sit, fists closed, selfishly wanting to hold on to last year and every wonderful thing about these past few weeks of heaven (aka Christmas break). At this point, several days into 2015, there's the "new year, new me" people—interested in recreating their personal image until the wonder of goal-seeking wears off; there's the people who have a quiet determination to reach high aspirations and achieve great things over the course of this next year; then there's me—the sentimentalist. 

Even at a younger age I think I had this weird appreciation for memories. I found little things in life to be important. I hated goodbyes. I was sort of a pack rat (if I had something that reminded me of a specific event or memory, I would keep it. Even if said item was a rock or a tissue. Yes, I was a weird kid). I literally would worry myself sick. I held on tightly.  

With Christmas break ending and a new year unfolding before me, I've found myself returning to the tendencies of my youth. I dread goodbyes. I worry. I over-think. I doubt. I over-analyze. I cling and hold tightly to everything that was wonderful and perfect and amazing about the past.

But God keeps gently nudging me, showing me that I need to look forward. Cherishing memories with a thankful heart is good. But I can't walk backwards into 2015. 

And that's what I've found myself doing—walking backwards, because I'm quite fond of that view and too afraid of what's ahead. Having a whole new year before me overwhelms me to some degree. I've found myself worrying about school and classes and my goals and dreams for the future, wondering if I'm even on the right path toward God's plans for me. I've begun second guessing myself, wondering what I'm doing here.  

But then I was calmly reminded that I don't need to worry or doubt or fear. I don't need to view the unknown as a burden; I need to view it as a blessing, an adventure, an opportunity. Because Christ is enough. He's holding out His hand, offering to carry me and walk me through each step. Even though I don't know what is on the horizon for me, He does. He always has. And never once has He failed me. He is calling me to trust Him, to let Him be the One Who's filling me up. And with that comes peace.

The other day, I was at a hotel that had motivational quotes and words of encouragement written across the walls of the dining area. Although quotes like these tend to be cheesy or cliche, one of them rang with some truth: "Half the things you worry about won't happen. The other half will happen anyway, so there's no point in worrying about them." I don't need to worry because I have a God Who is in control, Who loves me, Who has incredible plans for me, and Who knows what He's doing. 

As for holding on to memories and the great times of 2014, a song came to mind for my tight-fisted self. "Love You Tightly," by Sanctus Real, has been a song I loved from the moment I first heard it. It's the perfect reminder that the people, memories, and blessings we've been given don't belong to us, they are gifts from God. We go through seasons of life, some short, some long, and sometimes transitions aren't easy. But because we've been given these grace gifts, our only response should be to accept these gifts with gratitude and open hands, trusting that God will continue to provide, love, and lead us into the amazing plans He has for us, that we can't even begin to imagine.

"He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it." 1 Thessalonians 5:24