2014

I almost don't know where to start as I begin this blog.  For those who know me, you know it's hard to render me speechless... really.  I'm not sure that my not having anything to say, though, is the problem. Rather, too much to say... too many remarks... too much - dare I say it - HOPE - for the new year, and if you really do know me, you know I have hope in one thing and not much else --- Jesus.  

Yes, as having been described by my own husband as a person who 'doesn't even have a glass', let alone I be lucky enough for it to even be only HALF empty, hope is, well, not something that has come easy for me.  I tend to want to not set my own proverbial bar too high, as I'd rather surpass my expectations rather than take a chance and fail.  I've had plenty of experience on that front.  

And - though I have a whole quiver of resolutions this year - my hefty resolution - the only one that really matters, is that I kiss my husband at midnight on 1/1/15 knowing that my. life. mattered., and that I tried things, gave them my all, and if I failed... by golly, I went down fighting.  

I want to see it in my faith, my family relationships, my health, my work, my FUN, my aspirations... I want it to cross the whole gamut of who I am... of who God has made me to be.  

Let me say this loud:  I'm tired of merely surviving.  I'm no longer okay with just getting by.  

No - I want experience, great love, and maybe a few accomplishments under my belt.  I want to surprise myself.  I want to work hard and reap the rewards... even if the reward is just to finish.  

That last part was difficult to type (and even more difficult not to erase).  When your mantra has been why do it at all if you can't do it well... it makes the mere idea of finishing not seem so glamourous.  Don't get me wrong, I've never expected to be the best at anything... but to not be the worst would be awesome, and this year, one thing I'm going to do is run a whole, blasted, 5k (the bar is low here, folks) without having to walk ANY of it.  Keyword... RUN.  I've done a 5k.  In fact, I did two last year.  I walked one completely to walk with my family, and I ran / walked one earlier in the year.  But I couldn't run the whole thing.

Something else.  I'm tired of just looking at the scale.  Sure, I *cough* still have the 6 pounds or so I'd like to lose, and it's still on the list.  But you know what, I need to be building some strength.  Before, I was perfectly content to eat better and be a bit more active and watch the scale move down some, but this year I need to tone up and work hard, and if that means not getting below 130, but my clothes fitting better and my energy levels spiking... so be it.  

I'm going to finish a book, and I'm not talking about reading one.  Here sits the girl who thrives on, relishes in and hopes in a good story.  I have an abnormal desire to meet authors and imagineers that have been dead for decades.  I fantasize (I don't use that word loosely), about writing a great novel... and I'm not talking Twilight here (and I like Twilight), I'm talking timeless.  But my biggest fear has been to write it and to have no one to read it.  As if, in the writing there is no satisfaction but in being read, but I'm overcoming that this year.  I'm working my tail off on that novel, and from that point forward - it is what it is.  I won't one day regret that I never tried, and that is enough for me.  

I don't want another year that goes by that feels like 'we survived another year'.  I want to toast my sparkling juice or whatever beverage I may choose and say, "honey - this year we lived," and hopefully, repeat it over and over and over again, forevermore.