As we approach the end of the year and prepare to begin another, Kimberly reflects on the importance of anchoring ourselves in our Faith.

By Kimberly Ross

There's always a mix of emotions at the end of the year. Each of us takes stock of our wins, losses, joys, and sorrows as they've stretched across the preceding months. To be sure, everyday life contains the mundane. But at various points, it is infused with the spectacular. This recipe is repeated again and again as the days and years tumble on. As humans, we love the ending of a chapter and the beginning of a new one. The start of something fresh brings with it hope, curiosity, and wonder. We crave it. 

It's difficult to imagine a timeline that doesn't include the ending of years and turning of the page. It's hard to wrap our minds around it. The order of the calendar and the changing of the seasons gives us something to cling to. We appreciate an anchor to the temporal because it's all we'll ever know, at least on this side of heaven. 

No matter what stage of life, I am sure you face your share of exhaustion. It can be physical, mental, emotional, or a combination of all three. We're stuck in this imperfect human condition. We need rest and renewal. That’s one of the reasons the prospect of a new year excites us so much. The old is done away with and for a moment in time, what lies ahead is untarnished. 

The end of the year is so special. We celebrate the holy birth of Christ. Then almost immediately, we're swept into a new year. The merging of an indescribable joy with the turning of the page inspires us to continue on. Quite honestly, it feels transformative in a way no other time of year does. But we know the wonder doesn't last. Not long into our new years we look around and recognize that they look so much like the old years. The ones filled with mistakes, questions, problems, and defeat. But one constant remains. 

Isaiah 40 begins with the word "comfort." This is a necessary part of life. It's something we all need. But comfort isn't found within us. Instead, it's found if we look outside ourselves, that calendar, and even our world. Isaiah 40:26 reads, "Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens: Who created all these? He who brings out the starry host one by one and calls forth each of them by name. Because of his great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing." It goes on to a beautiful, encouraging end in verses 28-31: 

"Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."

My mind is contained by the earthly parameters it's been given. I'm so consumed with trying to make things better that I look forward to the new year in an almost desperate way. It somehow rights the wrongs, at least temporarily. Everything feels better. At least temporarily. But this is little more than wishful thinking. 

As Isaiah 40 so clearly demonstrates, the unmovable, everlasting, never wavering, all-encompassing nature of God is the true anchor. It is the only security we'll have as we journey on earth. It is the source of our strength. It is the only avenue of true renewal as we search for interim fixes that might briefly soothe our souls. 

This is what I hope to take with me as I bask in the joy of Christmas and physically and mentally turn the page to 2023. I enjoy celebrating. I appreciate the "new”. But it wasn't meant to last, and it certainly isn't meant to satisfy. That, my friends, is found only and permanently in Jesus Christ. May that deep, true joy be yours.