New

There’s just something about opening a new jar of peanut butter. I love to peel off the plastic lid and see that perfectly smooth, untouched paste filling the jar. And then to make the first cut with the knife, piercing the wholeness and pulling it apart; the first scoop of peanut butter always seems to taste better than the bits at the bottom of the jar.

It’s the same way with a new box of crayons. Coloring with the sharp, pointed tip of a brand-new crayon is fun; more fun than using the broken pieces of often-used crayons that you have to peel the paper edges off in order to use. (This reminds me of a time in South Africa when we gave crayons to the children at the day care center we were visiting. The children were very excited to color and having a great time, until I noticed one small group looking worried. One of the children had pressed too hard and his crayon broke in half; they were all afraid they’d get in trouble because they had broken the crayon until we reassured them that it was okay.)

Thinking about peanut butter and crayons reminds me of this new year. I love opening a new jar of peanut butter and a new box of crayons. There’s a feeling of anticipation, of beauty and possibility, of new-ness. I often feel the same way about a new year. It’s still untouched and filled with possibility. I can make resolutions to improve my life. I can think about ways I will be kinder, pledge to follow Christ better, and read my Bible more. I can dream about all the good things that I want to happen.

But soon enough - just as the peanut butter in the jar shows knife jab marks and the crayons break or lose their points – things happen in my life that remind me that I am not perfect and will fall short. Things won’t always go the way I hope or plan. This new year won’t turn out exactly as I thought.

But then I realized something. The only way the jar of peanut butter stays completely smooth and “beautiful” is if it’s never used. The only way the crayon will stay pointed and whole is if it’s never touched to paper. But that means they will never fulfill their purpose. A jar of peanut butter is meant to be eaten. Crayons are designed to provide color. And God gives me a new year in which to live. Yes, there will be types of knife marks and rounded edges during my life this year. But that’s all right. God uses each of these things to help me grow. The peanut butter jar, box of crayons, and a new year – these are only unblemished until they are unpacked and opened, taken out, and used. There's a lot more peanut butter than just the first scoop, and you can color a lot of pictures with a crayon (even if it's broken and the point is gone). I have a new year in which to live and learn and grow.