how Finally Putting Away the Decorations Leads Me to Question the Meaning of Life

Our family activity yesterday was putting away the Christmas decorations. I say "family activity" loosely—Haley was away at a friend's house, and the putting-away process tends to remind Kendell of just how many decorations I've accumulated so he stayed upstairs (you know...not freaking out). That left us a "family" of four...me and three boys who sort of don't really care a whole lot about Christmas decorations. They did get all the ornaments off the tree, and box up their own (this is the fun part!), but the rest—the wrapping in bubble wrap, the organizing and sorting and packing into boxes—was left to me.

Putting away the Christmas decorations always causes me to look forward. With each item I put away, I wonder: who will I be when I get this Santa back out? Who will I be when I unwrap this nativity? How will the kids have changed when they unbox their ornaments? Sometimes I have even written letters to my future self, telling her what I hope will have happened. Some Januaries, I am full of hope: the upcoming year is going to be great! This time I will finally _________________.

This year, being hopeful seems too hard. Not in a poor-me sort of way, but in a realistic, let's-be-honest, come-on-now approach. I know what I hope to accomplish by next December, but they are such old, recycled goals, things I have been hoping for or working on for more than a decade. Why would this year, 2011, be the year I finally manage to accomplish those things, when all the other years weren't? What might it take for my life to change enough for those things to happen, and would I even recognize myself if they did? Maybe simply hoping for those things is as far as I will ever get.

Don't get me wrong—I still have my list of resolutions. I want to do more and be more and succeed more. I want to lose twenty pounds and read fifty books and run at least four races. I want to floss more consistently and eat less cheese. I want to grow closer to my kids and become a better wife and be a better friend. These are the most important things, of course: the quality of my relationships. But there's always that little voice reminding me of what I haven't succeeded at yet. I'm disappointed in myself that I haven't figured out how to answer that voice. I also wish it would whisper to me how.

Who will I be when I see, say, this nativity again:

 
(I inherited this from Kendell's Grandma Leola; every year when I set it out he reminds me that he thinks it's ugly, but I love it. It's unique and it reminds me of a woman I didn't know well but who helped to shape him.)

I'm not sure. Probably I will be more of the same. Still in the process of raising teenagers and 'tweens with all the joyful sharpness that entails; still caught in the bittersweetness of watching my youngest continue to grow up. Still deeply unsure about the quality of my life and my decisions, about how much happiness I might deserve and what happiness is anyway; still questioning and searching and wondering. I want to believe that big changes can still happen, that I have more to look forward to than endings. But I don't know how to make myself hope for beginnings anymore.

Comments

[Becky K]

Hugs. Remember, it isn't the destination, it's the journey. You are trying and that is what is important.

It all goes back to Frodo! Dang him. I still am kind of a Frodo hater. I'm Team Samwise all the way.

[Apryl]

I think I know what you mean, I get a little self conscious about my goals too. Should I dream BIG or be realistic? And will I be mad at myself if I don't reach the big goal? And if so, is it worth even making the goal then? Being alive is hard.

[Wendy]

I read a seriously convicting quote on another blog today:

"if you're not daring to believe God for the impossible, you're sleeping through some of the best parts of your Christian life. And further still: if the size of your vision for your life isn't intimidating to you, there's a good chance it's insulting to God." - from a book called "Sun Stand Still"

It was the part about the size of my vision that stuck in my craw. God has given me so much and sometimes I dare think that I don't give what He deserves back because I am stuck sucking my thumb and saying "well, it may happen for others, but it will never happen for me." This mostly applies to my writing. Sob.