A Word about 2017 and A Word for 2018

“All we have to decide

is what to do with the time that is given to us.”

This famous quote by the wizard Gandalf, in the epic trilogy The Lord of the Rings, reminds me that time is both a gift and a choice. The scene unfolds as the hobbit Frodo laments the presence of The Ring and his role in having to return it to the region of Mordor. (You can watch the movie clip here.) Frodo says to Gandalf, “I wish The Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.” The wise wizard replies, “So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide.”

I relate to Frodo’s grief. I wish parts of 2017 had never happened. I wish I could have ignored the news, crawled into a hole, and disengaged from the vitriol on social media. I wish I could forget the hurtful comments, the passive aggressive remarks, the shocking hate from *Christians*.

I wish I didn’t need to initiate hard conversations with my kids about the N-word and other dehumanizing public remarks they’ve had to process in 2017.

I wish I didn’t have to explain to my kids why I wept with a black employee at Target who bore the brunt of a racist customer, “Where’d that white girl go? I don’t want a black person helping me.” 

I get it, Frodo. I wish none of this had happened.

Gandalf knows the burden Frodo carries and encourages him with this truth,

“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”

None of us were given a choice regarding the days and circumstances in which we live but Gandalf is right: we do have agency in how we use the time given to us.

My word for 2018 is time. Here’s how I plan to use it:

1. My People:

Glendon. Just passed the fifteen year mark with The Hubs. I want to love him better and treasure the days. Here’s to more stories, more laughter, and more adventures.

Four Kids. I’ve been a parent for ten years and I confess: I grow weary of repeating myself, of correcting and training, of wiping noses and butts, of waking up at the most ungodly hours, of attitudes and bad habits that I thought we’d already mastered. With all the jackassery in this joint some days, I wonder if these people have forgotten or forsaken all that they’ve been taught. I ask God for supernatural strength to listen and connect, especially when the only logical response to all the nonsense is to hide in my closet with dark chocolate and a bottle of wine.

I do want to love them well–at least well enough so that in 20 years, I’m not the topic of conversation with their therapists. (I aim low, People.) I realize my four are more than complex humans to train. They are souls with dreams and hopes and hurts. I am so deeply grateful to be their mom, to help them navigate their brokenness in a broken world, while showing them what it means to love and be loved.

Friends. I’ve experienced a mutual drift with some friends this year, which has been tough for me, especially as an Enneagram 6. We’re The Loyalists. (For more on the Enneagram, click here.) I suspect the drift might be related to the current culture and political climate and the conservative evangelical response in the midst of it all.

I didn’t expect [white] *Christian* friends to refuse to connect or respond in anger after discovering our theological and/or socio-political differences.

I didn’t expect to be judged harshly for my stance on racial equality. I didn’t expect to be told that racism is politically motivated by the liberal media.

“You’ve got it all wrong, Katie. Your brown babies are so cute. They’re always welcome!”

That’s a nice sentiment but cute brown babies grow up to be objects of suspicion in cars, classrooms, work places, and convenient stores. They become less-thans who often feel enormous pressure to prove themselves worthy of existence in whitewashed America.

Lynching.

Slavery.

Redlining.

Mass incarceration of our black brothers and sisters.

Charlottesville.

Cornell University.

Peaceful protesters.

 

Am I–are we–to be silent on these important social, cultural, and personal issues in order to preserve the relationships of those outraged over our vision for racial equality? Should we limit social media to pictures and funny quips but avoid heavy topics, as some have suggested?

I didn’t expect to see the subtle racism, like a slip that fell below the *Christian* skirt. I wanted to turn away, to pretend I didn’t notice it peeking beneath the hem. Yet there it was–exposed. I can’t unsee it now. How do I trust  again after discovering the racism revealed by *Christian* friends I thought I knew?

I’ve emerged from 2017 a bit more guarded and wise in my relationships, humbled, and more committed to listen to and care for the marginalized. I see more clearly who I can trust and I remain committed to my small circle of authentic, diverse truth-tellers who value connection, challenge me when I need it, and encourage me to earnestly pray and work to bring His Kingdom here on earth, as it is in Heaven.

2. My Passion:

I’m rounding the corner on 40 this year and I’m waving an enthusiastic goodbye to the decade of cankles, nursing, bottles, baby food, middle-of-the-night feedings, spit-up, and teething. The Ovaries and The Mental Health Coordinator have spoken and They all agree: “Your home is full with these four. It’s time to work on your other dreams.”

Duly noted.

I am no longer birthing or adopting human babies however, I do have another baby–shaped like a book–growing within–one that I hope to bring to life before the next decade. I’m using my time to craft more words, build my tribe, and sharpen my vision.

We’ve been given time and we get to choose how to use it. In 2018, I’m using it to invest in my people and my writing with greater intention.

How are you using your time in this new year?

Do you have a word for 2018? If so, I’d love to hear the story behind it.