Learning to let go

The window between late December and early January has never been my favorite. Not only does it signify the end of Christmas, but it carries connotations I struggle to ignore.

In this window of time, I’m bombarded with messages: “Do more.” “Be more.” “Look great.” “Take control of your life.”

I feel immense pressure to reinvent myself in the name of a New Year’s Resolution. I feel inadequate when I compare myself with what I “should” be by now. I feel ashamed when I set lofty goals and fail to meet them.

Now, there’s nothing inherently wrong about setting goals or trying to become a stronger, healthier person. So, what is it about these goals that make me long for February, when most have long since forgotten resolutions?

You see, these goals are rooted in something deeper than health or accomplishments. They put the pressure of being enough on me.

I scroll through my newsfeed, noting friends’ resolutions to go keto, do a triathlon, or read 100 books in a year. Rather than mentally filtering these posts through the lens of “good for them,” I instead doubt my worth.

• “Maybe if you had goals like that, you’d be enough.”

• “If you could do a triathlon, maybe people would take you seriously.”

• “If you accomplished something major, maybe you'd be truly lovable.”

For so long, these resolutions have served as means to doubt my identity, rather than an invitation to walk as the beloved daughter that He says I am.

Rather than allowing Him to dictate my value, I’ve used resolutions as an attempt to prove the worth He already says I have.

So, while I have plenty of goals and dreams and hopes for the future, my New Year’s resolution is so vastly different from past goals that it seems something of an anti-resolution:

I will let Him stay in control.

I will pray for strength to live the life He sets before me, not the life I feel pressured to live. This is both my hardest and healthiest New Year’s goal yet.

When I desperately want to cling to control, I'll surrender to the One who owns the world.

When I’m tempted to prove my worth through accomplishments, I'll remember that He calls me worthy.

When I see what other people are achieving, and I’m tempted to believe this makes them more lovable, I will remember that I could not possibly be more loved than I already am.

When I feel pressure to jump on a bandwagon because “everyone else is doing it,” I'll pause to consider what’s actually the healthiest choice for the life and body He’s given me.

When I try to speed up and do more, I'll slow down to be still and know He is God.

When I’m tempted to compare my accomplishments with other peoples’, I'll remember the difference between a full life and a busy one.

My personal prayer for 2020 is that I would encounter God in my places of deepest fear and insecurity—and it’s my prayer for you too.