When I Have No Words

I’ve decided not to choose a word for this year. 

That makes 2016 feel a little exposed and risky, but I'm going to brave it. 

It seems as if I'm not part of the in-crowd of word-choosers because I really do love words and choosing one to reflect on for the year always captures my fancy. 

For the past few years, I’ve rummaged through all of my favorite words — words like lovely and glossy and dazzling. Like contestants at a beauty contest, I’ve selected the top contenders and then awarded one of my favorites with the title, WORD for the YEAR. 

But to be honest, it feels like I’m looking for a word that’s more of a prediction for the new year. And the word that’s uppermost in my mind these days is not really a word I’d like to focus on all year. 

It’s fear.

Fear of what the year may bring. 

I’m afraid that my life will change. And I’m afraid that my life won’t change. 

I’m afraid that everything will stay the same. And I’m afraid that things won’t stay the same.

{Have you ever felt this way?}

I’m not sure I could have imagined all that the past year held, with last summer’s trip to Italy for a faith and art retreat as the centerpiece of quite a remarkable year. 

But what was most extraordinary to me was that my sister traveled this year, too. 

She went to New York over the holidays because she wanted to. Usually she travels only if she has to.

It seems laughable to me that I’ve traveled to New York, Paris and Italy, and not my sister. 

She’s the adventurous one, not me. I’m the bookworm and she’s the social butterfly.

Our last trip together was 15 years ago when we jetted off to Los Angeles to visit one of her friends for a week of movie-star-gazing, dinner-clubbing and hill-climbing beside the Pacific.

Then she decided that she no longer liked to travel because she doesn’t like planes or elevators or skyscrapers or tunnels or bridges. 

And she doesn’t even want to think about a trip requiring flying across an ocean.

So she stays home and when I travel without her, I feel like a piece of myself is missing. 

I stood under the Eiffel Tower, wishing she were beside me to experience the awe of it. 

I walked through the Plaza in Manhattan and knew she’d love the rich history we’d read about in books.

I scanned the menu in Italy and saw her favorite pasta, gnocchi, and wished she were there to sample it.

But over the summer, she told me she and my brother-in-law were praying more fervently, more intentionally about her fear of travel. 

I prayed too because I have a dream only God could orchestrate that someday we would travel together. I want us to see all the places we've read about in books when we were little girls. Because there's no one I'd rather share it with than my sister.

In the fall she said she was experiencing something quite strange. She couldn't explain it, but she really wanted to travel to New York to visit it at Christmas.

I think sometimes to push fear to the edges of our lives, we need a faith that completely transforms us. But so often that faith asks us to stir, to rouse ourselves and move in a direction that seems unnerving. 

It’s a bit risky and it’s no ordinary journey, but as we move, we are changed. 

As we look at our lives through God’s perspective, fear loses its power. 

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. -Is. 41:10

My sister and brother-in-law spent the week before Christmas in New York, watching the Rockettes, taking my niece and nephew to see Stomp, taking a carriage ride through Central Park, walking through Wall Street, eating at Sardi’s and visiting the iconic Plaza in Manhattan. 

She said she had an amazing time. 

She said she felt free.

So this year I don't want to box myself in with just one word. 

Maybe this year is meant to live without borders or boundaries. Wide open, expansive, limitless. 

I want to greet whatever this year brings with anticipation, not afraid but knowing that even what’s hard can hold treasure, with an invitation to know more of God. 

So I'm hopeful. For all the days in this year ahead of me.

And maybe someday I’ll find myself in Paris, chocolate croissant in hand as I walk along those famous streets, and I’ll look over at my sister as she catches her first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower.

And I'll know what she's thinking without her having to say a word.

A little note: thanks to my 12-year-old nephew Nate, who took all the NYC photos.


I'm linking up with Holley Gerth at Coffee for your Heart and Bonnie Gray at the Faith Barista. Click the images to read more posts from my friends!