Has anyone been overwhelmed by the concept of resolutions this year?
Or perhaps, have you felt stuck in a season of life where the only thing you’ve got together are your thighs because on a laundry list of things you can’t seem to get together you haven’t managed to get together the whole regular gym thing?
I’m never one to shy away from a hearty, healthy self evaluation (#ENTJ, baby). But this year, we’re halfway to February and anytime the conversation starts, my brain transforms into a tipped over, particularly competitive game of Scrabble. I’m talkin’ Ivy League level words flying, here.
I don’t know what 2017 did to fragment my brain to Scrabble chips (lie #1, I have some theories), but there are oh so many goals looming over my head I haven’t known where to start. I’d like to mash the pause button for a good, long week to tidy up the playing chips, and see where the universe spells out I should begin remaking myself. But in lieu of a real-world pause button or a cosmic partnership with Hasbro that spells out life journeys, I finally gave myself one morning to sit down with a really healthy grapefruit (lie #2, it was a donut), to cut the anxiety and sort out this resolution business. Because need I remind you twice in two paragraphs, ENTJ, not having a plan is most unRobin. And too many social media motivators have told me I need to start somewhere.
So, I just started writing crap out. That is a very Robin way to handle a mental tailspin. In fact, it’s the telltale sign of a tailspin. I made a long (long) list of resolutions I’d like to tackle given pure, unadulterated, inhuman levels of follow-through. Then I looked for themes, which personal issues were were systematically caused by another issue, and so on. Tryin’ to hit the root of the resolutions, if you will. For me, the theme was eliminating anxiety in 2018.
I’d like to draw the line here and not let the Internet into every dark and twisty negative space in my brain. I also don’t think you’d really care to read every one of my goals, either. I will tell you, I skipped right past things I know I *should* be doing like slow down on the coffee intake, or cut calorie-laden breakfast food (prepackaged and otherwise because LOL, PopTarts, I just can’t quit you) and went straight for what I knew would stick.
Example: buy good coffee beans. It may seem like more money on the front end, but I’m much more likely to drink more coffee at home instead of out if I buy good coffee beans. This ultimately saves money + I’ll be less tempted by more caloric coffeeshop cappuccinos/lattes. Ta da. Two birds, one coffee bean.
If I’m being completely transparent, I wasn’t going to publish this post. I wrote the top half, but thought the world could be spared a good, long Robin Ramble, so I considered it shelved. That is, until I was having a conversation with a much younger coworker who said, “When I’m your age, I really want to be as together as you are.” I LAUGHED. I think I snorted and laughed in his face.
Flattered as I may be, I don’t want to give anyone ever the impression I feel like I have “it” together. In fact, more often than not, I don’t. For many women, the ultimate goal is marriage. I have an awesome marriage, but even that isn’t always perfect. I have doubts about my career plan. I get nervous at parties. I get discouraged when a dress doesn’t fit exactly the way it did in my head. Someone who has “it” together doesn’t feel that way. Right? Lie #3, sort of.
Not to fall into a philosophical table tennis game of Chidi proportions, but on one hand, we’re human. I think we ALL feel that way. Striving to feel like “it” is ever completely together is an impossible feat, because we are a spiritually, intrinsically fallen people who need Jesus.
On the other hand, that doesn’t mean we don’t try. Sometimes though, we try to bridge the gap of our imperfection to the joy on the other side every January 1 by our own power, through these pesky resolutions. When in fact, this should firstly be through Christ, and then through listening to what He tells us about ourselves, and ways we can be the best versions of ourselves on earth, to His glory. Enter resolutions.
This process starts with contentment in Christ.
God gave us Paul in Philippians to look at as an example. Paul wasn’t starting BBG for the 7th time because he didn’t like the shape of his thighs. He was imprisoned for his faith and faced serious trials and tribulations. And he chose contentment.
Philippians 4:11 -Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.
This man is writing a Thank You note from prison to the people of The Philippian Church, and he still fought for contentment. Like, what a brat I can be, feeling overwhelmed from beneath my down comforter, sipping freshly ground coffee, worried about my dress size. I find Paul seriously motivating because contentment in Christ is a struggle for me.
Long exhale. This post is weird, but a necessary conversation I’ve felt a tug to start with anyone who feels like you’re riding in the boat of feeling unresolute this year so far. And to offer a reminder that I’m preaching to myself daily, to seek contentment, and quit feeling like I have to have “it” together, but to take realistic steps to self improvement to the ultimate glory of God.