I used to make New Year’s Resolutions. I’d get pretty fancy and meticulous about it even insisting on a trip to Barnes and Noble to buy a new journal in which to permanently record all my good intentions. The only problem with this is that there is now a permanent handwritten record for me to read at the end of this year and feel aggravated at myself for not following through with every numbered item.  So, I resolute to not resolute this year. Instead, I have decided that I want to do much of everything differently. Besides, I don’t want to have to a checklist staring me in the face reminding me of how “behind” I might be.

I have this vision glowing in my heart about the kind of life I would like to have (not that I’m unhappy about my life). For one thing, I’d really like to rekindle my creative fires. I’d like to feel the same enthusiasm for just about everything like I used to. I suppose life has a way of snuffing out your passionate fires. I don’t want to just lie down and let the troubles of this life turn me into a robotic creature of habit that just does what she needs to take care of her family or someone that merely survives the day and calls it a success because the dishes are done and laundry all neatly folded. I want more out of this life than being responsible and doing what needs to be done. I wanna do a lot more of what I dream of and light other people’s fires. I want to be known as a catalyst for love, enthusiasm and peace. I want to feel things besides grief and an overwhelming sense of loss. I want to let the joys of my salvation become so obvious that it’s a brightness in this dark world. I want to really live life!

This year I had to come to terms with more loss as I grieved yet another miscarriage. The irony about the situation is that we weren’t even planning on having a baby. We added two more precious babies to our family through foster care and I have my hands full. These two new ones made our family of 7 into a family of 9 and being pregnant was the last thing I needed. But, as always, planned or unplanned, a pregnancy  is precious life in the making and to lose a baby to miscarriage is one of the deepest and most difficult griefs to bear. I decided this time to give myself all the time I needed to grieve and to make no apologies for it. For the first time, I watched my husband grieve over a miscarriage. Why I had assumed that miscarriage was not hard on a man, is beyond me. I suppose I was so lost in my own sorrow the last times I hadn’t noticed. Or maybe it was because he was trying to remain strong for my sake. So, this time we were able to share our pain because he talked about his own. We have now lost four babies: there are four faces we never got to see, four voices we never got to hear and four little personalities we never got to know. I believe that life begins at conception and that these lives we will know one day in heaven, for that’s where my babies now reside and in this I find comfort.

God works in the most mysterious ways. I wish I had more time to elaborate on why I know this. He has shown me so much in this life especially when the heartaches cause me to slow down and reflect more. What is it about pain and sorrow that sends us running to our Heavenly Father?

I have no idea what He has planned for this year, but I know that I am in His hand. I want to rest there and find the peace I lose sight of sometimes in my crazy busyness and strife. I intend on doing a lot less striving and a lot more resting on His promises. So, here we go again, a new year, a new beginning full of hope…..