When I got to my desk at the office this afternoon, I discovered the note I had written that said:
There’s one continuous line under those words, but there’s nothing listed under it. It took me a minute, but I remember I made that note during a conversation about a due date, but the impact of that blank page sitting on my desk as I walked in on the 2nd day of the year wasn’t lost.
I’ve read many, many posts about the plans that people have for this year including resolutions and words or phrases to motivate and challenge them, but I am kinda liking my blank page idea.
Do I have plans for Harrelson Press as well as what I will do after I graduate from seminary in May?
Do I have hope for where I will be and in becoming a wage-earner rather than a debt collector in the coming year?
But there’s something powerful about having a blank page perspective that allows the page to be filled by the possibilities and opportunities that arise. If I hadn’t had carried that perspective and outlook in the last 5 months, then I wouldn’t be in Columbia, I wouldn’t be a pastor, and I wouldn’t be a book publisher.
With Epiphany Sunday only days away, maybe hoping for a new revelation every day isn’t as far stretched as we might think. Maybe it has more to do with how we approach that day than what the day’s events are. Maybe it’s about readjusting ourselves instead of trying to change the people and circumstances around us.