This is the year. It all starts now. We've all done... Resolutions!!! Our favorite time to do this is at the beginning of the year. We promise ourselves that we’re going to quit bad habits and start good ones. We’re going to get in shape, eat better, be nicer, lust less, waste less time, be more content, more disciplined, more intentional. We’re going to pray more, serve more, plan more, give more, and read our Bibles more. Some have put on their list to start going to church. Others have put to start going to the gym. Some have both on their list. We’re going to finally be all that we can be. No more messing around.
We might make some great strides this year. I’m hoping to. We hope to make a lot of improvements over the next 12 months. But don’t be surprised a year from now when we realize that we've fallen short…again.
For those who try and try, year after year, again and again, to get better and better, only to find that it doesn't seem like you are making any progress. Or for those of you who have already broken your New Years resolutions…I have good news for you: you’re in good company!
I was recently reading a blog from Tullian Tchividjian and he gives an account of someone who kept trying to change aspects of his life. Here is an account from the life of Samuel Johnson (a literary giant of the 18th century) to fight sloth and to get up early in the morning to pray. Taken from Johnson’s diary and prayer journal, He gives us a record–through the years–of Johnson’s life-long resolutions, failures, and frustrations:
1738: He wrote, “Oh Lord, enable me to redeem the time which I have spent in sloth.”
1757: (19 years later) “Oh mighty God, enable me to shake off sloth and redeem the time misspent in idleness and sin by diligent application of the days yet remaining.”
1759: (2 years later) “Enable me to shake off idleness and sloth.”
1761: “I have resolved until I have resolved that I am afraid to resolve again.”
1764: “My indolence since my last reception of the sacrament has sunk into grossest sluggishness. My purpose is from this time to avoid idleness and to rise early.”
1764: (5 months later) He resolves to rise early, “not later than 6 if I can.”
1765: “I purpose to rise at 8 because, though, I shall not rise early it will be much earlier than I now rise for I often lie until 2.”
1769: “I am not yet in a state to form any resolutions. I purpose and hope to rise early in the morning, by 8, and by degrees, at 6.”
1775: “When I look back upon resolution of improvement and amendments which have, year after year, been made and broken, why do I yet try to resolve again? I try because reformation is necessary and despair is criminal.” He resolves again to rise at 8.
1781: (3 years before his death) “I will not despair, help me, help me, oh my God.” He resolves to rise at 8 or sooner to avoid idleness.
You have to admire the never quit effort of Johnson. Doesn't he sound like us? Try and then fail. Try again only to fail again. A few successes a few failures.
We all know the frustration that comes with trying to keep a resolution. When we don't suceed we beat ourselves up. Of course, our enemy is right there to tell us what failures we are. He is there asking us why do we even try. He tells us we will never change.
I came across a paragraph from Tullian Tchividjian that I think is a good way to look at all of our successes and failures with New Year's resolutions:
What I’m most deeply grateful for (as was Johnson) is that God’s love for me, approval of me, and commitment to me does not ride on my resolve but on Jesus’ resolve for me. The gospel is the good news announcing Jesus’ infallible devotion to us in spite of our inconsistent devotion to him. The gospel is not a command to hang onto Jesus. Rather, it’s a promise that no matter how weak and unsuccessful your faith and efforts may be, God is always holding on to you. The glory of a new year (and of every year) is the chronicling of God’s successes perfectly meeting my failures.
It’s ironically comforting to me as this new year gets under way that I am weak and He is strong–that while my love for Jesus will continue to fall short, Jesus’ love for me will never fall short. For, as Mark Twain said, “Heaven goes by favor. If it went by merit, your dog would get in and you would stay out.”
Thank God!
Troy
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