An End-Of-Year Blessing

May you become fluent in the language of hope.

Instead of ‘ending the year strong’, what if we chose instead to end the year…

soft.

A year from now we’ll look back on whatever story 2024 ends up telling, our eyes skimming the highlighted and/or tear-stained pages.

It probably won’t go how we think it will; it never does, does it?

Things will shift and change, storms will rage or maybe, may it be, the sea will still for a moment. Who knows what we’ll see when we look back, but we could still look forward with hope, let the armor rust and end the year a little softer. I guess what I’m saying is that if I am going to shift, I want it to be in the direction of hope. Not the flimsy rainbows and unicorns kind but the hard-fought, defiant, not giving up, anchor in the waves kind. Because it has yet to go how I think it will, but through every change this has stayed the same: I haven’t walked alone.

And so, an end-of-year blessing for you and for me:

May you rest without prerequisites, and if guilt or shame try to sit down beside, may you choose to kindly but firmly scoot them over to make room for grace and delight. May these last days of 2023 be full — in the joy-full, hope-full way — and as you pause to look back and then look ahead, may the changing of the calendar page be a reminder that God is still at work. The story isn’t over just yet, and sometimes the ending of one thing creates space—in the branches, in our schedules, in us—for a new beginning.

May you see the light through the bare winter trees, in the flicker of a candle, and in the face of another. May you become fluent in the language of hope. May you be surprised by joy and steadied by peace, trusting in the dark what you know to be true in the light.

May you dare to laugh, long and loud. May you never stop watching for redemption, even as you learn to build altars in the ruins, and may you always find a hand reaching out when all falls apart. May you take up space and give yourself grace. May you grow as you go and may you choose to go slow. May you keep moving hope-ward.

May you end the year soft.

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After sharing this on Instagram/Facebook, I received a few comments about printing the blessing out and/or returning to the post to re-read throughout the year. You certainly can! But I thought I’d share it here as well, assuming it’s easier to find in your email inbox (a quick search of ‘blessing’ should pull it up!) rather than scrolling back through a newsfeed or social media profile. Happy almost 2024, friends. Let’s end this one soft, yes?

Have you read my first book? If not, maybe it can be part of your 2024 reading goal. ;) Even If Not: Living, Loving, and Learning in the in Between will help you choose hope for tomorrow when today feels like a question mark.