Yesterday, in a thoughtful end-of-the-year mood, I peeked at some old journal entry.

Have you ever sensed God nudging you a new direction, but couldn’t quite make sense of it? Weren’t sure if it was leading from God? Felt restless and eager to begin, but didn’t know where to start? Well, this is what I found in my journal from early 2001. At that point, there were still nearly two years of wrestling ahead before I would begin writing my first novel.

“For several years, I’ve felt God nudging me to write. I want to be quickly obedient to God’s leading. But throughout my life I’ve found myself often confused about whether a prompting was actually from God, or pressure from others, or strange compulsions from my own mind.
Not that this excuses my lack of movement in this area.

When I was earnestly seeking God for a new direction…after time of healing and recovering from working for many years in dance ministry… all I heard was “write.” I guess I could have begun to write more regular journal entries…. or even gathered thoughts into articles to submit to magazines as I have in the past.

But as I thought about writing, I couldn’t see a picture of “how” and “when” and “which”…
Did God plan that I would write for Christian magazines, or was I meant to write a book? Fiction, non fiction?

So, paralyzed with very little information, I did nothing.

Well, that’s not quite true. I volunteered in various areas of ministry at my church and many of those areas were heavy, full of struggle and frustration… and little sense of fulfillment.”

The entry went on to describe my floundering experiments with trying to discern what God was stirring me to write, while trying to find ways to serve in the meantime. What comforts me is seeing that back then in my cloud of confusion, God already knew. He already saw late 2002 where I would meet a wonderful group of Christian writers and where He would finally reveal a specific direction and throw open the starter gates and let me run. God also saw 2007, where the whisper-soft call to “write” that made no sense to me in 2001 would further unfold with the release of three new novels.

(I’ll send the full “Highlights of 2007” list to my Book Buddies – so if you don’t get my free Book Buddy ezine – you can read more if you sign up for it at my website.)

Remembering how lost and confused I felt during the years before I began writing, (and honestly, most of the time during the past five years of the writing life, too!) and then seeing what God was able to unfold, makes me want to wrap my arms around everyone who feels confused, yearning, and uncertain today.

Trust Him. He knows the end from the beginning.

I enter a New Year once again feeling befuddled, uncertain, and horribly inadequate. But that’s okay. I’m just a servant in His vineyard, and all I need to do is show up each morning and serve in the corner of the field He sends me to. Whether He sends me to plant, or prune, or harvest, or compost–I pray I can obey with a heart of love. And I pray that for you, too.

In 2008, may God steer us (even when we feel we’re only going in circles) and may He unfold plans of grace and blessings (even when nothing makes sense) and may He quicken joyful obedience in our hearts (even when we don’t see results in our efforts).

Happy New Year!
Sharon Hinck

The other day, I realized I’ve made a couple of new friends this year, and that’s always a good thing. Not just new acquaintances, but true, kindred-spirit friends.

I decided that any year I discover a new kindred spirit is a good year.

Which got me to thinking about other things that help define a year as good.

If, at least once during the year, you happen to be in the right place when someone needs a shoulder to cry on, and your eyes well up in instant compassion, then it was a good year.

If someone else held you – even just once – as you cried the sloppy, ugly, nose-running sort of sobs from the depths of pain, then it was a good year.

If you had one powerful encounter with a different side of nature – if you hiked a mountain when you usually live in the plains, or waded along a beach if your home is land-locked, or felt the scorching wind of a desert when you live in a temperate climate, or built your first snowman, then it was a good year.

If you tried something new and did it badly, (because how empty days would be if we only did things we are good at), then it was a good year.

If you did a few things that were uncomfortable, a few things that were luxurious, a few things that were sacrificial, a few things that were bold, then it was a good year.

If you read a little more of the Bible this year than last year, it was a good year.

If, at least once, you got lost in worship and forgot your needs, your worries, your agenda and simply experienced the beauty of God, then it was a good year.

There are some events so sacred, they can’t happen every year: Giving birth. Speaking your marriage vows. Holding a loved one while they take their last breath. But if you cuddled one new baby, attended at least one wedding, visited one person in the hospital, then it was a good year.

I like the song “Seasons of Love,” from the Broadway musical, Rent.

“525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear.
525,600 minutes – how do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee.
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.
In 525,600 minutes – how do you measure a year in the life?
How about love? How about love? How about love? Measure in love.
Seasons of love.”

I won’t try to measure this year. I’m just pausing to appreciate it.
I’ll rejoice that it was textured with love. Not my love (which is often cranky, limited, and needy) but Christ’s love for me – and sometimes (by His grace) through me to others.

“We love because He first loved us.” – I John 4:19

How about you? Was there something tender, remarkable, or unexpected that made this a good year? I pray that even if you didn’t find a new kindred spirit, or hike a mountain, or give birth – that somewhere between the pages of the calendar, you saw God’s love for you.