I go through seasons where I love to make New Year’s Resolutions….and also seasons where I hate them.
I love the possibilities of change for the better, and the chance to turn the page on the calendar and start fresh amidst the ashes of the past year.
I love the chance to think about where I want to be and make goals for how to get there.
I love the hope and the challenge and the expectation.
But I hate the guilt when a resolution gets left behind before it’s even February, and the disappointment when I look back on my track record of keeping resolutions in the past.
I hate the cynicism and dark whispers that creep into the making of the list.
You’re never going to do that.
You’re never going to change that.
You’re never going to lose that or build that or grow that.
So why bother?
Why bother trying to make changes when the path in front of you is just as treacherous as the path behind you?
Why bother trying new things when you’ll probably fall on your face before you’ve even really started?
But look at this girl on her Christmas morning skateboard.
She’s not thinking, I’ll probably fail. She’s not thinking, I’ll probably fall. She’s not remembering that bruise on her knee or that time when the scooter met the rock in the park.
She’s not staring at the cracks in the pavement and deciding they’re bigger than her determination to cross them.
She’s not thinking of her lack of experience, knowledge or skill.
No, not her.
She’s strapping on her helmet.
She’s putting on her big girl boots.
And she’s pushing off – knowing the cracks are coming, aware that her skills are still developing – but knowing she’ll never get to the end if she doesn’t bother to begin.