Do you hear it? That buzz of energy and excitement in the air? That comes around once every year about this time.
We find freedom from the past, and consider ourselves with a clean slate.
We feel grateful for new beginnings and decide to try something new. Or again.
We have hope that this year will be better than last. And we anticipate what awaits us.
And in the wake of these feelings, we resolve to capitalize on this moment. To do things we want to do. To do things we need or ought to do. To do . . . better.
Funny, it all sounds a lot like redemption to me:
We are free from our past, our sins, our humanity. We do have a clean slate.
We should be grateful for a new beginning, and we should decide to live in that place of being different and trying again.
We have a hope that will never fail. And we can anticipate with joy the ultimate prize that awaits us at the end.
Freedom, clean slates, new beginnings, hope, anticipation . . . and yet my response to redemption is different than my response to a new year. In fact, I hardly even pause to consider all that redemption really means to me. To realize that I have a new beginning. To understand that I have hope. And I rarely even get to the resolve part.
So in a season of reflection and resolution, I’m thinking about redemption. And I’m resolving to do a lot more thinking about it this year.