2007 – a somewhat new yet vaguely familiar year

Me thinks next year will be one of spontaneous singing and humming, regardless the circumstances and consequences. A happy new year and now bring us some figgy pudding. Or this little gem from the red, red lips of Doris Day:

When I was just a little girl
I asked my mother, what will I be
Will I be pretty, will I be rich
Here's what she said to me.

Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

When I was young, I fell in love
I asked my sweetheart what lies ahead
Will we have rainbows, day after day
Here's what my sweetheart said.

Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

Now I have children of my own
They ask their mother, what will I be
Will I be handsome, will I be rich
I tell them tenderly.

Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

Joy is a good word for the year of our Lord, 2007. Oh, they´ll murder and rape and steal and lie, like every other year since Adam and Eve adopted a new father and left their old one behind. But for me, 2007 will be the year of the Lord. Hands off, get thee behind me, whoever tries to steal it away from Him.

The future's not ours, to see

I don´t know what´s in the sack for the next year, good things, bad things, but I know who´s giving it to me, and that´s what counts. It´s not in the gift, but in the giver, and me being the given.

Whatever will be, will be

I´ll try to keep my calendar white as a virgin next year. Oh, it´ll fill up of course, but let´s pray, with less of mine and more of His this time around.

Que Sera, Sera

I don´t want to be famous next year. I don´t want to get rich, I don´t want to be brilliant, neither amusing nor witty. I want to be just the person God so loved, so valued that it was worth every and any sacrifice. I want to understand next year, whatever Christ saw in me and saw in you and saw in God to do that with me, you and God. And if that´s one “why” too many for a feeble little year, a mere 365 days of it, then learn me to obey and do what love commands anyway.

I tell them tenderly

I´ll sport less next year. Don´t like hamstrings, they make me walk funny.

Will we have rainbows, day after day

I already know my work matters, I´ll work with understanding my life matters too, and living it as if that´s a fact. That it´s a matter of fact.

Will I be handsome, will I be rich

Less of fun, excitement and self fulfillment next year. Hail, blissful boredom!

What will be, will be

I´m no one in particular. Just completely freaking unique.

When I was young, I fell in love

If, perchance, I´d accidentally fall in love with someone, it´ll be with her and no one else. If, if such miracles do occur in our time, she´d happen to fall in love with me, it´ll be with me and no one else. Or else, let be.

Que Sera

Every time has a purpose. There´s a time for everything under the sun. There´s the great Filofax in the sky. Little need then for me to organize every moment in the calendar of my own. Next year, look out! I´ll guard the blanks in my calendar with my life. They´re not mine, they´re not yours, they´re divine property.

The future's not ours

I won´t pray just for the sake of praying, or read Bible just on account of reading Bible. It´s quality time with the Lord. But if it comes to that, I´ll pray just for praying and read Bible just for reading Bible. It´s time with the Lord.

Whatever will be

Every new year need have a slogan. Mine is: Relax! You´re in the service of a good Lord.

Will be

I will not read twenty volumes of Kierkegaards collected works next year. I´m not an intellectual project, you know, or a librarian´s wet dream. I do hope to hug at least twenty people for next year, I´m a human being, being human we do together.

When I was young

I utterly refuse to learn any new languages for this year, Inshallah...

Here's what my sweetheart said

I´ll write more love poems next year, and less essays on theology. Maybe even some of those loving poems won´t be exclusively to God, but who have need for such distictions?

Sera!