Change is in the micro moments.

     I'm not really a fan of New Year Resolutions. The few times I've made some, they've led to low-grade disappointment in myself or my circumstances when I was unable to complete them. Often times I've found that the ability (or inability) to complete them was beyond my control. So, I don't really make them anymore. 

     At the start of this year, I did however think about what I want to do differently, or what I want to do for the first time, in 2022. I realized that my humble list was really just a collection of things that could make life a little bit happier and prettier. I can't control much - a truth God likes to teach and reteach me. But He's been gracious to show me in the last few weeks that I can at least try to make everyday life more pleasant by doing little things or making little changes, and those little things can have an accumulative affect for the better.

     As I've struggled the last few months with sadness over loss - the way things were and the way they are now - the realization that I can do these little things has interestingly led to having a little bit of hope; something that I have been missing, aching and praying for.

      So in 2022, I want to soak myself in Scripture and read through the Bible twice - double the amount that I usually do. I can't get enough of God's Word lately; it's grabbed my attention and I'm wanting more and more. Nothing has brought me hope or comfort like the Bible, and I'm genuinely excited to make it a priority every day.

     I want to take more pictures. Since the age of 12, they have brought me happiness, even a sense of security and comfort. But somewhere in the last few years as my zest for life lessened, my picture-taking did, too. I want to get back to having a camera roll that speaks of God's blessings, warms my heart, and reminds me that I am surrounded by good people and good things.

     I want to write more, too. Once a month is my goal, whether that be here or in my journal. It is cathartic in more ways than one, and writing is a muscle that I want to use more.

     I want to light more candles, filling my room with a happy smell and a bit of coziness (I've discovered in the last month that a candle instantly ups the cozy vibe, and I'm obsessed). I want to read more good books. I want to declutter social media, leaving Facebook groups or unfollowing Instagram accounts that are simply wasting my time or increasing any struggle with discouragement. I've already done some of that, and it's helped reveal my unhealthy dependance on social media for a false sense of companionship. This year I would like to sit with loneliness and solitude and redeem them. They're not my enemy, and they can lead to far richer thoughts and endeavors than mindlessly scrolling Facebook ever will. I want to write more cards and when I'm wondering if I should reach out to someone, just do it. I want to take the initiative to get together with friends instead of waiting for them to. I want to paint my nails happy colors more often.

     I know some of these may seem silly or even vain, but as I've made an effort to incorporate them into my life in the last few weeks, they have added a little bit of happiness. I have to admit that life has become many shades of gray. Much of that has been beyond my control, but it is a hopeful thing to realize that I can incorporate bursts of color here and there, and they do help. So, here's to making changes. I'm even toying with the idea of coloring my hair.

     A lesson that we help others understand as counselors is that God works in the micro moments of life - we change in the micro moments of life. Significant changes, be they reactions, habits, mindsets, or behaviors, start by choosing to do something different in the smallest of moments. Sometimes we are blessed with epiphanies, but more often, change will happen through the steady choices made in everyday life. He works as we make small changes, and He can use them to change us from the inside out. 

The top paper is a year-long reading plan after spending six years in my Bible. I thought it was time to print out a clean sheet. Even that micro decision feels a bit like a clean slate.