2012 was not my year. There are things about it that I loved—epic travels, building and deepening relationships with family and friends, rekindling my fledgling faith and desire for intimacy with God, and most of all, the precious front-row seat that I had to the buddy’s milestones—those things were delightful. All the rest? Not so much. It was rough and I felt every bit of it—on any given day, you could find me soaking up the hardship like a sponge and wallowing in the slog. I’ll be the first to say that a good mope can be satisfying. Fortunately, I can also say I've lost patience with downward spirals. It’s not who I am, nor is it what I want my son to learn about how to handle the bumps and bruises life will hand him. I choose to reset the balance of power between myself and my circumstances. All I can actually control in this life is my reaction to it. I hope by modeling that, with God and his daddy’s and my help, my son will become a man capable of the same thing.
2013 will be better. I’m certain of it.