New Year's Resolutions and Memories

        This is the time of year when people are winding down after a long, hard 2011 and buckling up for the roller coaster ride 2012 will be. It is a time for people to reflect on the last 365 days and make a list of how they will try to make the next 365 days better. Resolutions are a great way for people to feel like they put some effort towards trying to be a better person, knowing that they will never stick to these plans for improvement.
        I rarely make a list of resolutions. If I did, they would be unattainable, impractical, unrealistic, or just plain obvious. I'm happy with who I am--what could I possibly change? I guess I could always try to be nicer to my sister. But why does that need to be a New Year's resolution?
        This year, instead of resolutions, I made a sort of a bucket list; or as my family calls it, "The Bucket List for a Basket Case" (Thanks, guys). Really, it's more of a "Things-to-do-before-I-leave-for-college-out-of-state List." It's a mix of nostalgia (going to places full of childhood memories) and going to places I had never heard of before I Googled my own city yesterday. It's got crazy, random, silly things to do (like playing flashlight tag with my friends late at night) and serious tasks (raise money for a charity). I'm also determined to make a scrapbook to document all of my adventures. So far, I have several pages finished--Homecoming, my church's Christmas Tea, having fun in the park with my friend... I'm excited for what other memories will be put inside the book.
        I think that is what makes the end of the year so special: the memories. The reminiscing. I'm not saying you can't reminisce any other time of the year, but there's something different about New Year's. It seems like everyone is looking back; the memories are nearly tangible. Even if 2011 was a tough year, it is good to look back and say Wow, I actually survived that. If the year was amazing, it gives a sense of hope that next year could be even better. Or, if your year was like mine and was up and down and all over the place and you're just plain exhausted, you can say I am so done with 2011 and am ready for a new beginning.
        If you could describe in one word how you feel about the upcoming year, what word would it be? Anxious? Excited? Worried? Ready? I would use the word hopeful. I can't think of any other word to describe my emotions. As rough as 2011 was, I have hope that 2012 will be better. Although I don't know God's precise plans for my life, I have hope knowing He has plans for me. I am hopeful for all the big events coming up this year: eighteenth birthday, high school graduation, moving away for college... But even more important than these "big events" are the small things that happen each and every day, the seemingly insignificant moments that turn out to be truly precious.
        One year ago, to the day, I decided to start this blog. I wasn't sure what would happen, what I would write about, or if people would actually read it. It was finally in June (specifically, my post on Red Rock Canyon) that I realized the true purpose of my blog. As I wrote in that post, "I don't really have a life-lesson to make from this, but it was fun to reminisce on a small yet joyful event. I guess maybe that's the point-- Finding the small moments of life that are insignificant yet oh so very significant, the moments that don't last long but make a lasting impression." I hope that in the new year, you will learn to celebrate these tiny moments with newfound joy.


 "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
                  Jeremiah 29:11

Red Rock Canyon

       On the Friday of our trip, we went to Red Rock Canyon National Preservation Area. At the Visitors' Center, there were four sections, each describing the four forces that shaped the canyon: earth, wind, water, and fire. I laughed to myself that it left out the biggest force of all: God. After going through the center, we drove on a narrow, winding road through Red Rock Canyon. It was amazing to look around me and see the natural beauty. I couldn't help but think, with a bit of scorn, The city slickers probably don't even know what they're missing. All they'd have to do is drive a bit outside of town and they'd be in this beautiful, new world.
       We drove for miles in the canyon. Many people would get tired of the drive-- they'd say "If you've seen one rock you've seem 'em all." But I beg to differ. I couldn't get enough! It took everything in me to not go running into the hills, climbing the rocks, wandering the trails. I had this inexplicable urge to just get lost. Of course, now I'm glad I didn't act on that bizarre impulse. But at the time, the only thing keeping me from wandering off was that my grandparents were in the car, waiting for me. Every now and then-- no, every few hundred feet-- they had to slow (sometimes stop) the car for me to take pictures. I wanted to take a picture of every peak of every mountain and all the plants and rocks in between. Most of the time, though, I would roll down my window and take pictures as quick as I could, before the scene would disappear in our trail of dust.
       I really liked the feeling of being almost alone. Occasionally there would be other cars and other sight-seers, but most of the time it was just us.
       It was sad leaving the beautiful landscape. As we zoomed away, I rolled my window down and stuck my head out so I could look back. I now know why it is that dogs hang their faces out of cars. It somehow brings such freedom and joy! While I enjoyed myself, my family laughed at me for my silliness. But I wasn't being silly-- I was being as free as I could be while cramped in a car with my family.
       I'm not sure why, but those few minutes of wind blowing my face, whipping my hair around me, were some of the best minutes of the whole trip.
       I don't really have a life-lesson to make from this, but it was fun to reminisce on a small yet joyful event. I guess maybe that's the point-- Finding the small moments of life that are insignificant yet oh so very significant, the moments that don't last long but make a lasting impression.

Railroad Crossings

      The most annoying part about a car trip is having to stop at a railroad crossing, especially when the train is moving exceedingly slow. There is nothing to do. That's why someone, a long time ago, invented the game of "let's-count-how-many-cars-there-are-on-this-train." I don't know about you, but I get dizziness and a bad headache from watching all the cars fly by. I also lose count after about the tenth car, so I always wind up slouching in my seat and groaning until the guard rails go up.
      Tonight, however, was different. My sister and I were on our way home, car windows down and enjoying the wind blowing the hair in our faces. We were making good time--we were tired and anxious to get home--when we saw the red railroad lights flashing and the rails going down. After we stopped, we stared blankly ahead as we waited for the train to go by, hoping it would be a fast, short train. A pick-up truck, also with all of its windows down, pulled up in the lane next to us; it pulled a little farther forward than us, so the back seat of the truck was in line with my sister and I.
      Rarely do I ever pay attention to people in other cars, but tonight was different. It all began when the train first came into view. It moved slower than any other train I have ever seen before in my life. I wouldn't normally complain, but this train was so sluggish I had to voice my thoughts: Are you kidding me?! You can do it... Just a little bit faster! Seriously?! Then I heard voices from the truck next to us--the driver was saying just about the same things I was saying about the speed (or lack of speed) of the train.
      Then I heard a smaller, second voice. I look to my right and I see little fingers gripping the edge of the window. Then, like a tiny gopher popping out of its hole, I see two little eyes peering over at me and disappear two seconds later. Giggling, I poked my sister and nodded towards the truck. We watched as a little boy, about three years old, leaned forward, smiled, and waved at me. Unable to stop myself, I grinned and waved back. And thus began the best time I've ever had at a railroad crossing.
      I don't know how long we were stopped there, but it couldn't possibly have been long enough. The little boy waved until I waved back. He would then excitedly say to the driver, "Daddy, daddy! Look at that pretty lady! She's waving to me!" and keep waving. At some point, he stopped waving, but started rocking back and forth in his seat, in and out of my view. I realized he was playing peek-a-boo, so I covered my eyes with my hands, opened them, and continued the game with my new little friend. He started shrieking in the most adorable voice "Peek-a-boo!" and "I see you!" over and over as he popped in and out of sight. We were both laughing so hard (my sister was getting a kick out of it, too). Every now and then, he would announce to his dad "She's smiling at me!" or "We're playing together!" At one point, he said "I really like her! Can I date her?" I could barely hear him, but I heard the three-year-old's dad say "Isn't she a little too old for you?" At that, the little boy leaned over and simply beamed at me.
      Unfortunately, the train had gotten faster and was coming to an end. My sister pulled forward in anticipation of the green light, just enough to put us in line with the truck's driver. He yelled out his window, nodding at the little boy in the seat behind him, "Thanks for keeping him entertained! That could've been the longest train ever!" Laughing, we drove off in different directions.
      Now I wonder if that little boy does that at all the red lights and railroad crossing he stops at. It's like the game "Sweet and Sour," where you wave to everyone you see (if they wave back, they are sweet, otherwise they are sour). This precious boy could probably turn even the most sour person into a sweet one, according to the rules of the game. It was impossible for me to resist joining his little game. Besides, there was nothing better to do with my time.
      At railroad crossings, what do you do? Are you the person who ignores the other cars around you? Do you count the train cars as they go by? Does the music volume get turned up when you see it's a long freight train you're waiting for? I highly doubt you do what the little boy did, but why not? He made my day, and I maybe made his.
      Smiling is contagious, and it is the simplest way to spread happiness. At times when you have nothing to do, you should question yourself about what would be a good way of filling your time. If you're in the car by yourself at a railroad crossing, spend the time praying or thinking over a Bible verse. Smile at the person in the car next to you, especially if it's a little kid (they will almost always smile or wave back). Next time you are stopped because a train is crawling by, try it out. Take advantage of the extra time on your hands and spread a little happiness.