by Misty Dawn
each year before i write about my new word, i read back over the previous years and remember why i chose what i did and i reflect on how mysterious The Divine Hand behind it all orders my days so perfectly. each year i can see more clearly how the years really build on one another and how the under-currant is ever pulling me closer to my destiny.
i can see in ways i couldn’t see then.
and with each year i’m able with more confidence to lean into new words, having seen how they build on top of one another.
my paths are becoming well beaten,
the way clearer each day.
and most certainly more clear with each passing year.
i typically start mulling over possible words for the next year when the leaves begin changing their colors.
dying that new life might have it’s turn.
these were all words being turned and turned as possibilities for this year.
having purpose, having aim, having hopeful ambition.
there can never be a design without these.
without these, what you’re left with is chance.
the absence of purpose, the absence of aim and the absence of hopeful ambition.
to crave earnestly.
to the level of even rejecting what doesn’t submit itself to the thirst within.
to declining that which hinders ones position toward the deepest longings.
not in the sense of no restrictions, but rather through power.
the power to not be enslaved.
liberty without hindrance.
deliverance without restraint.
or even the complete absence of it entirely.
to aim at these things.
to have design.
to desire a true power, through freedom, in the presence of disorder.
the ability to be still when the winds and waves surround.
that is what i’ve found my heart to be after.
and as i look back over my first 3 years of doing this whole WORD OF THE YEAR thing, i’m deeply moved by the necessity of every previous word to have prepared me for this new year and yet another word.
i needed a season of intentionality.
i needed to let my heart wander.
and i needed to begin filtering things out in order to make way, and make space.
in order to be something this new, there were things i needed to do.
not knowing when i started how each year would build and yet seeing what appears like a master plan causes my heart to explode in wonder.
the same God that sends the rain,
that gives water to the fields,
who causes the dawn to know its place,
and who gives the horse his might,
it is he that gives me these words,
The Maker of all things.
also were my words.
so in keeping with the etiquette and tradition of having only one word,
this year i choose the word intrepide.
it’s french like one of my most beautiful friends.
the word isn’t as beautiful as she is, but as image bearers of the glory of God, i wouldn’t argue any word is more beautiful than any one of us.
but i would argue that to aim to desire to live a life of design, a life truly free of enslavement, or clamor, isn’t going to be the profit of motivations stemming from any form of fear.
we were not designed for fear.
fear does not free.
fear makes golden calfs out of anything it can.
i’m not interested though, in my truest self, of desiring any golden calf.
in my truest self, i know the eden i was made for.
i know the freedom that once existed.
i remember the best design.
and so this next year, without fear, i’m going to pursue exactly that.
i’m going to pursue the sender of the rain,
i’m going to rid my heart of even more clamor,
and i’m going to chase the one who gives the horse his might.