The UnMerry Month of January

January has always been my least favorite month—it is anticlimactic in its entirety. My first born was due on January 31^st and I hoped his birth would help the month redeem its dreary self.  But he couldn’t be bothered to make an appearance during a Michigan snowstorm, and stayed snuggled in tight and warm until the first week of February!

The concept of The New Year has a smug feel, with all its resolutions and imposed new starts—self and otherwise.  “What are your New Year resolutions?” a wide-eyed co-worker asks. Her stare seems a call to immediate action: should I get Botox? Lose ten pounds? Quit my job and move to Wisconsin? And by the way, if you don’t have a Goal List that is fulfilled by June 1, March 1, you’ve somehow missed your mark! No do-overs!

It’s all a bit much, isn’t it?

What if all the things you’ve done or did or didn’t do were perfectly orchestrated—even meant to be?

What if whatever you’re doing right now is exactly what you’re meant to be doing at this moment in your life?

Cheryl Strayed summed it up beautifully when she penned:

But if I could go back in time I wouldn’t do a single thing differently. What if all those things I did were the things that got me here?

This gnarled tree seems a good representation of how I’m feeling these days: the core is stable though aging, with some unsightly discolorations and protrusions—but the arms are bracing, reaching out to catch, hold and soften any blows that may befall those who are dear to me.

This is a reminder to give yourself a bit of grace today.

Stretch out your bracing arms so you can grab hold of all that life has for you—-right where you are today,

Suzette