While I am a goal-setter, I’ve never been one for New Years resolutions.  I think it is because my birthday anniversary is in January and to me that is the beginning of my New Year.  The holidays are chaotic and busy and there really is little time for reflection.  My soul requires  peace to contemplate what the best is that I desire to concentrate on for this particular year of my life.

I was sitting in Sacrament meeting a few days ago on the stand as the Music Director, so the usual joyous distraction of precious grandbabies crawling over me was not part of my devotion.  As I listened to the prayer on the water, these words struck deep;  “that they do it in remembrance of the blood of thy Son, which was shed for them. “  I imagined the little cup and how many drops it would take to fill it. One by one, each drop for a sin of commission or omission that I had committed that week.

A friend gave me a sterling silver sacrament cup that was used in the early part of last century.  In my mind, and my feeble estimating power, I saw it being filled and counted every one of those drops; twenty-six.    I determined to stay with the concept throughout the short ten minutes or so of the sacrament.  Too often my mind wanders and I too am guilty of not being able to “watch with me one hour.”  So I counted my transgressions, I wanted to find twenty-six experiences that I could ask for forgiveness of, search and really examine my conduct.

Instead of feeling guilty and inadequate and depressed, however, I finished with barely being able to find all twenty-six.  This deeply touched me.  In the past I’ve found it all too easy to come up with a multitude of sins in my daily walk, but because of the life I am trying to live and the changes I’ve been trying to establish, my sins are becoming less scarlet.  My hope in a glorious future is beginning to bloom and my life is beginning to feel the effects of a sweeping atonement that I’ve shrouded my world in.

I found myself weeping in gratitude for the joy of a life becoming more His.  The drops of His blood that were shed for me this week at least, finally didn’t overflow the cup.  Instead it was filled the rest of the way with gratitude and hope.

Sitting with the Savior for just those few minutes has deeply affected my spirit.  Now if I can lengthen it to an hour!

I love the gospel.  I love the blessings that contemplating and considering and reaching deeper bring me.  I love the sharing of brothers and sisters under the canopy of the church which shelters my life.  I love the deep roots of generations of those before me who have sacrificed and served and failed and succeeded so that I may draw upon strength.  I love the knowledge of truth and those who have altered their lives to find it, share it, stand by it, and deliver it so that I can benefit.

There are many principles, ideas, practices and traditions that I may not understand or agree with necessarily, but I know that the sturdy strength of truth stands tall and immovable.  I know that my life is blessed continually as I act upon what I know.  I live assured that as I share and increase my witness, it grows.

Each Christmas my family has a tradition of giving one gift to Jesus.  This is a gift that we contemplate and decide we will change to become more in line with His goals for us.  Mine is to stretch higher.  To do more while being surrounded by less.  To give up that which is not enriching to make room for what is.  My gift is that of honoring my testimony with action.

This coming year will have changes as every year does, but what will not change is my firm commitment to my Lord, my family, my associates and my faith.

Tree image credit: McKay Savage