"New Year"
by Jennifer Hubbard
There was a time when I would start the New Year by creating a master list that I thought, if I accomplished, would provide the purpose I was seeking in my life. I believed that if my house was organized, if my gardens flourished, or if I finally completed the project, then my soul would settle and life could begin.
Shortly after my little one died, a new year began and the page where the list would have been pored over sat blank. I walked blindly into an uncharted future with nothing to offer but an empty vessel clinging to a mustard seed of hope. When every fibre of my being begged to differ, I would whisper, I know the plans I have in mind for you - it is the Lord who speaks - plans for peace, not disaster, reserving a future full of hope for you. (Jeremiah 29:11). At times my whispered declaration was more of a question that he would answer through my brave one's smile, my husband's embrace, or a reminder of Catherine's love. Each answer was a validation that I was placed in that moment for that very moment, and that was all that mattered.
Days have turned into years, and that page where the list would reside remains blank. I can now see that it is in setting aside my will that I am better able to see His. I see each day is a blank slate in which he will provide what I need to live his purpose. While I may not see the purpose in its entirety, it is fulfilling his will for the right now that breathes life anew and settles my soul.
(Jennifer is a writer who resides in Newtown, Connecticut, USA. The younger of her two children, Catherine Violet, was a victim of the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting in 2012)
