On giving thanks, then turning the page

Can I be honest? January was hard.

I appreciate that many people the world-over dislike what feels like a never-ending month, but personally for me, January usually feels a bit better than it did.

It’s my birthday month for a start, which normally means some form of celebrations, and despite the long, monotonous days, I’m the most motivated to achieve my resolutions than I will be at any point in the 48 weeks ahead, so that at least gives me someplace to direct my energies.

Sometimes the sun makes a surprise appearance, which is always nice, and the nights start to get lighter too. For the most part, I have minimal issues with this month. I don’t expect too much. It is what it is. I can’t complain.

Except for this year.

This year January hit harder than it should. Or at least, harder than I was expecting.

I won’t go into details, but if you want just a snapshot to satisfy your curiosity, picture me on the evening of my 32nd birthday bawling my eyes out on the tram home from town, because I was finally hit by the grief of a sad situation that I hadn’t known how to process for 3 months prior.

In hindsight, I was probably also feeling the first effects of the flu that would actually hit me the next day, taking me out of my own life for nearly two weeks. Said flu forced me to shield from loved ones at a critical time for our family, and I was genuinely gutted to miss out on some long-anticipated events. With my body so unhappy, my brain struggled at times too.

Safe to say, I’m glad to see the back of this month and I’m ready for a restart.

Historically, I might have envisioned this like the ripping out of a messed-up piece of paper from a brand-new notebook (you perfectionists will know exactly what I’m talking about!)

But now? Now, I feel it’s simply enough to just ‘turn the page’. And that’s significant, because it points to a deeper acceptance I’m learning, one that says ‘I can’t erase what has gone before, but I can acknowledge it for what it is and still move forward.’

Maybe you need to hear that today too?

In truth, we can’t erase the past. We don’t get to do January 2025 all over again, or any of life for that matter, but we can still give thanks for what was good and then turn the page. It’s a different path forward, for sure, but it’s Jesus who leads the way.

When I think about it, He suffered some terrible things at the hands of men, but on rising again He doesn’t hide the scars on His hands and feet or in His side - they’re brutal but important parts of the story. They’re also not where the story ends. Without denying what has gone before, He steps forward into new life and it’s from there He beckons us to follow.

When I consider this, I’m so grateful for my God of fresh starts, especially because they’re not fresh starts that encourage me to deny the past or any of the associated pain, but ones that help me leave the past in its proper place, trusting that the story isn’t over yet.

So, as February flickers on the horizon, I’m taking a leaf out of His book and looking ahead. I can’t erase January from the fabric of this year, its sickness, sadness, Covid and confusion, but I can move forwards, trusting that even the trickier times are an integral part of the year and the story He’s writing for me.

He’s writing one for you too.

Whilst it could be tempting to draw conclusions about where you think this year is headed based on these first four weeks, the Lord is kinder and more creative than you know. There may be bumps and twists in the road, but they’re all part of the plot. He’s skilled with a pen and He’s not done with you yet.

With a new month come new mercies. Why not whisper your thanks and then let Him turn the page? After all, your story is still unfolding on the other side.

Grateful for you and rooting for you,