Word for words

I used to write New Year’s resolutions. I put words to the change I so desperately wanted to see in my life, in my heart. I made a declaration resolving to transform, to grow, to leave this year better than I entered it. My intentions were noble, maybe even righteous, longing for His beauty in my life. I professed to God all I would do for Him in the coming year. I vowed to be better, be more, serve wholeheartedly. I resolved and expected the birth of Christ-like character in an instant. And usually by now, I failed to realize the change I so passionately longed for and I was discouraged, living defeated, feeling useless. I failed because I tried in my own strength. I relied on my own power. I authored the words of my resolutions in the first place. My words weren’t what He had in mind.

This year, I decided to approach things a little differently. I asked God for words, the Word. He is the only Author worthy of putting words to my transformation, and He promises those words do not come back empty, but will accomplish His desires and achieve His purposes. (Isa 55:11) He knows the Word we need at the moment we need it. The Word that became flesh that is the very breath in our lungs. As we labor, the Word beckons. Rest. Lean in firm. My yoke is easy and my burden is light. (Matt 11:30)

Somehow I missed the miracle of my beginning. The scars on His hands existed before my declarations, before my vows, before He started His work in my heart. When I was still His enemy, He hung at Calvary, all for love, to assure me even I am worthy of it. Me. At the beginning of change. Before change at all.

So, this year, I don’t resolve to change. I mean who am I to suggest to the Maker of oceans and skies, rain and mountains, mangos and flowers the things I think need changing. Instead, I resolve only to offer my life and give thanks that I have it to offer. The disciples had five loaves and two fish to feed 5,000 people. In faith, they handed it all over to Jesus and had 12 baskets of leftovers! He is the Supplier who multiplies! If that’s what He can do with some bread and fish, what can He do with a whole life, wholly surrendered?

The gap between us and Christ is a vast canyon that will never be filled this side of Heaven, no matter how hard we labor. And, yet, He still authors a beginning for each of us, not because of what we do but because of who He is. He etches stretch marks of growth deep across our lives, testimony of new life emerging - from the inside out. Evidence of the birthing process, the Christ-child growing within us… over time. His perfect time. With or without our resolutions... because of His Word, not ours.