Typically the first week of the new year is filled with resolutions, thoughts of what didn’t get done last year, the exercise we didn’t do but should have, or what we need to accomplish the next year. The athletic clubs will be bursting with newbies … for a month or so. The health food stores will be visited by wannabe dieters … for a short time. Self-determined plans will be announced, “This year I will …” but soon forgotten.

I’m not one for making New Year’s Resolutions. The success rate is pretty low. But I am all for reflecting back and seeing progress made and finding a direction for the year ahead. Life plugs along at a rather fast speed and each year seems to gain momentum. I’m not satisfied with just existing each day and letting it fly by without purpose. So I take time to reflect.

For some, 2007 was a whirlwind of fear, pain, and disappointments and the opportunity to wipe the slate clean and start again is coveted. For others, it was a year of progress and celebrations of successes that drive the eagerness for another new year.

This morning I took time to look back at my focus heading into 2007. Some apprehensions ended up being puddles, but at the time were tidal waves. In other instances, the puddles grew — the death of a friend, another’s diagnoses, unknown outcomes. And yet other pieces of the year contained beautiful surprises and long-awaited dreams fulfilled.

I’ve said it before — life is a log ride filled with ups and downs. We can’t stay on the top as we have to delve deep in order to travel back up with renewed happiness. If we wallow in the valleys, something will hit us from behind. If we just sit in the puddles, we only strand ourselves. Life isn’t stagnant, but moving. Yet how frequently we crave the status quo or desire to not rock the boat.

Heading down the last slope to the mini lake below, do we keep our heads up or instinctively duck? Are we too worried about getting wet that we miss the fun of the ride? Sometimes the anticipation of the big splash overshadows the ride and we forget the memorable high points.

Fear of the unknown is very real for many. So our tendency is to cling to what is familiar, struggling to let go and reach out for what is ahead. We all fall at times, but the question is to what do we cling?

Keep our heads up in 2008. Enjoy the entire ride. Get wet … we will dry off.

As much as I love the holidays, there are a few things that threaten to take away its magnetism. Yesterday as I fought the urge of frustration with traffic, I thought of what I would do if I was in charge of the month of December.

1. For the week between Christmas and New Years, all business must close to allow family time … nothing else.
2. Snow must blanket the ground. Not too much, not too little, but with a heavy heaping at the ski resorts.
3. Christmas music must play on all radio stations.
4. All school band concerts must occur before December 5^th.
5. All creditors must give a grace period for the month.
6. All extended family members must repeat, “You come over whenever it works for you.”
7. The focus must be on being together and celebrating the birth of a Savior, not on fancy new things.
8. The real Christmas Story is required reading for every household.
9. All illnesses are eradicated.
10. And as the reformed Grinch said, “There will be no sad faces at Christmas.”

I asked my daughter last night what she’d do if she was in charge of the month of December. Here were her mandates:

1. Everyone has to go to the animal shelter and donate food, play with the animals, and keep them warm.
2. Presents are opened early (by December 23^rd).
3. It is required to have snow at every house, but not over 5 feet.
4. It must be called what it is: a CHRISTMAS Tree, not a “Holiday Tree.”
5. Stores must change their prices so little kids can buy more things with their own money.
6. Santa is banished. God gives presents.

But, we aren’t in charge. So I will play my Christmas music from a CD, I will spend as much time with my family as possible, I will accept the amount of snow the ski resorts have, I will pray for my friends burdened with illness and look for ways to encourage those discouraged. Above everything else, I will remember the reason for this season and give thanks for the greatest gift of all — Jesus Christ.

As I sit in my little sanctuary of an office this morning, the word that comes to mind is peace. Out my window, snow gently falls blanketing the ground. My Piano Christmas plays quietly in the background. My Sumatra coffee warms my hands and taste buds.

I love mornings where fresh snow is falling. It’s a morning where life slows down a bit. Drivers can’t barrel down the roads. School buses are late, so rushing isn’t necessary. The urgency to run errands is replaced by thoughts of a nice toasty fire and a cup of hot cocoa.

Tranquility.

Outside dainty heaps pile atop Christmas lights and pine needles. Frailty. Tiny snowflakes find their designed homes. Destiny. Scraggly branches thicken with a white puffy layer. Comfort.

Softly the pianist glides its fingers across the keys …

Long lay the world in sin and error pining.

Till He appeared and the Spirit felt its worth.

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees. Oh, hear the angel voices!

O night divine, the night when Christ was born …

I wonder if it snowed that night. A baby born in a stable-such frailty. But it was perfect-destiny. Hope felt from the birth of a Savior-comfort.

Whether it’s snowing where you live or not, take time today … just be.