It’s a new day in a new year. Last year I gave the year a name. Encouraged by a fellow blogger, I thought it might be wise to define the year. To be intentional about something. Anything.
So it was the year of beholding. Looking for His hand in the daily-ness of it all. Seeing his sweetness in the beauty of the world. And praying that in the beholding, a certain becoming would follow. “Beholding the glory of the Lord, we are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another,” 2 Corinthians 3:18.
With camera in hand, I’ve been on the hunt to capture little pixels of what He has done. In the warmth of the way that my seven year old still jumps into my arms every morning, in the walking step by step with my husband, in the joys of friendship and family and worship, I am learning to behold and to become.
And I need to keep looking, seeing, beholding, becoming. My “word” is not done.
But I do have a new word. I am calling this the year of sanctuary. I need to be with God, to know His presence in new ways as my life makes new demands. And it’s hard because I am busy and tired and I wonder if this is the way it’s supposed to be.
Perhaps this longing is in the same vein as Susanna Wesley’s apron. Those fibers from centuries ago have become for weary mothers a symbol of sanctuary, of meeting with God in the middle of the mess. Oh how I need a peaceful place.
I’m not sure where to go from here. The idea is great. The implementation remains. But I do know that God who promises is faithful, and that He is my sanctuary, my place of meeting and worship and peace and rest. (Ezekiel 11:16).