At Year's End

And then it was new liturgical year's eve. Again. Didn't this just happen yesterday? What even is a 2015?

Advent is always one of my favourite times of the year. We wait - patiently, eagerly - in the silence for God to be born into our hearts. This time last year, I began the 'What Can I Give Him?' series in a little effort to make room for Christ in my Christmas. 

I'm still thinking and praying about what this Advent, beginning tomorrow, will bring in my life. The Lord's put so many new beginnings into this phase of my life that I'm concerned I may lose sight of the heart of it all in the process. I definitely want to carve extra time and space to cherish His coming this Advent. But perhaps more on that tomorrow.

Right now, I want to focus on ending the year well. 

Undoubtedly, the year that has passed since the beginning of last Advent has been one of the most challenging of my life. It was hard! Not the kind of lethargic, discontent, restless "hard" that my high school years often challenged me with; but real, raw, demanding hard. 

This was the year I stripped back facades and learned how to be genuine. This was the year I figured out, finally, what it means to persevere and toil without seeking reward. This was the year I acquiesced to God's request to allow Him to make me humble. This was the year I found joy in an identity resting on Christ alone rather than my own laurels. 

This year Christ gave me a new heart. He looked steadily at me and was filled with love for me (Mark 10:21), and transformed me through the slow, gentle, cumulative effects of a relationship with Love Incarnate. And how I praise His name for that.

In prayer this morning, I felt invited by the Lord to let the turning of the liturgical year be marked by three things:

Gratitude

Surrender

Intimacy 

I want to finish well by saying 'thank you' for all that has been: every blessing He has poured out, I will turn back to praise. Reflecting on the last twelve months, I want to perceive how His Holy Spirit has moved in every moment, not just the ones that seem superficially successful. How beautiful to end this liturgical year singing a song of thanksgiving!

I want to finish well by laying down into His hands my past, present and future. Like the David of Psalm 131, I want to give up my hold on things that are beyond me. I cannot undo my mistakes; I cannot paint for myself a future that has yet to arrive; even in the present, "without Him I can do nothing." Ending this year, the greatest peace comes from relinquishing my grasp on every hope and expectation of what should have been or what could be, trusting that who HE IS far exceeds my dreams and desires.

Finally, I want to finish well by sitting at the feet of a merciful, tender Lord who meets my gaze and holds me close. Sometimes I get caught up trying to analyze how God has worked in everything; the trap is to sift through the year with a fine-toothed comb, determined to squash my own blindness by becoming aware of why everything happened the way it did. This is not what He asks of me. He asks me, with quiet voice and tender eyes, "let Me love you." Oh, that I might end my year by simply cherishing the One who cherishes me!

~~~

 What does the end of this liturgical year mean for you? How will you turn the page into the Year of Mercy? What does it mean to you to finish the year with gratitude, surrender and intimacy?

AMDG