Soaking up a new year

And reaching deep for goodness (and cake)

We soaked up last year like a sponge, our pores soggy and dripping with that exhausting span of days, and in the amorphous window between Christmas and New Year’s, we try to wring ourselves out, to create space for a new one. When I squeezed out 2021 last week, it was more like lemon juice running over my cracked cuticles than anything. Last year stung. I’m so thankful for January. Not only does my birthday come on the heels of the change of year, but I am always so ready for a fresh slate. So much possibility is ahead. This year, I might even let myself dream.

I see all these posts about resolutions - Be intentional and have them! Be different and don’t have them! - and every boldfaced sentiment in between. What a good opportunity to check your own gut, to decide what it is you actually need. I am the type that needs some structure and a little shove in the direction of good things, self-shoving included. Since I’ve managed to shake free of much of the perfectionism that plagued my younger years, I enjoy a fresh commitment. There’s nothing wrong with that. Just as there’s nothing wrong with making no new oaths this month.

I think often about what it looks like to live unburdened, and how to unburden others. Is the burden too heavy for you to add a resolution at this point in time? Then don’t add another thing to your plate. Do you feel burdened by the thought of stagnation and continuing in some of the bad habits you picked up last year? Then by all means, make some course corrections and commit to them. This is not a time for bandwagons; it’s a time for honest self-reflection and honoring what you need.

Here’s the beauty of it all: we have the freedom to change our minds. Let’s say you committed to a 30-day online yoga class with your sister-in-law’s sister (like I did), and you’re curious if this is something you can even physically accomplish. Well, if on day 5, you decide the answer is no, you get to change course. You can decide your needs would best be met by something different. “Failing” at the yoga commitment might mean succeeding at listening to your body, respecting its limits, exercising boundaries, and communicating them to someone - four really difficult skills to master, much harder than triangle pose. I despise triangle pose.

And let’s just hold the word “failure” out with some heavy side-eye anyway. Life isn’t a set of goals to crush or trophies to be won. I have no problem with goals or trophies if you like them, but what I’m after is holding my days like invitations, and each one offers something different. Most of the time I remember to R.S.V.P. Some days, I find them on the kitchen floor, seals not even broken. We show up as often as we can. We aren’t failures; we are guests of honor, cordially invited, every single day.

I used to read a lot of Elizabeth Elliot, a faith-based author who would say that every challenge is a cup you’re being offered from which you could decide to drink or not drink. Drinking was the equivalent of surrendering to the sweet or bitter journey placed before you. I don’t remember any disclaimers or an asterisk at the bottom of the page to except long-term abusive relationships as a cup you have the freedom to set down (or throw against the wall), so I just kept dutifully drinking. There were some cracks in the china, a discussion for another day, but the point is that a guiding metaphor or word tends to help me stay focused.

For the last several, I’ve chosen a word for the year. Rather, I’ve asked God to help me land on one. I know it’s kitschy. But sometimes what feels like a religious gimmick actually gets us somewhere. I’ve found that my word is a thing I forget every couple months and then come across at serendipitous moments, like finding money in the pocket of a coat I don’t often wear. It is a crumpled piece of hope I keep finding, all year long.

Last year, sometime in late December, I felt like my word should be Trust. I casually asked God what I should trust, and he not-so-casually replied, “That I’m the Great Physician.” I forgot all of this, since I wasn’t sure why I needed one, until shortly after my breast cancer diagnosis three months later. As I was spiraling in a muddy vortex of questions and fears, I found that conversation I’d had with God written in a journal. The moment I needed it, I was smoothing out that wrinkled hope in my hands.

I don’t know if you’re on speaking terms with God. But what about asking them for a word? You might try it. Five minutes of listening or keeping your eyes peeled might turn into the very thing you need someday.

This year, the word I felt God whisper a while back was Surprises. Funny, I hate surprises, and I’ve claimed this my whole life. But I have a suspicion that might change. Something in my spirit has already woken up, bright-eyed, anticipating. Looking for goodness, reaching deep into all my pockets. After the last couple years, to be even a little expectant, even eager for something good feels like the salve I need.

What are you eager for this year? Are you finding courage to reach down deep for goodness? If you have a word, or a guiding thought for the year, I’d love to hear it (click the speech bubble at the bottom or the box below to comment). Happy New Year.

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make this.

Clementine and Almond Syrup Cake (a.k.a. Leslie’s Birthday Cake)

I don’t love super sweet desserts. I don’t love piles of frosting. I don’t love the heaviness of cheesecake or fudge. But this cake, a single layer, citrus flavored dream boat made with almond flour, is my favorite. My birthday is tomorrow, so I plan to whip it up. It’s from this cookbook, and I don’t use the icing. It’s a little more involved than the recipes I usually share, but it’s very doable as long as you have a 9” springform pan and some parchment.

Ingredients:

3/4 C plus 2 T unsalted butter

1.5 C plus 1/3 C sugar

grated zest and juice of 4 clementines (I use oranges)

grated zest and juice of 1 lemon

2.5 C almond flour

5 large beaten eggs

3/4 C plus 1 T flour

pinch of salt

long strips of orange zest for garnish

You’ll need a 9” springform pan and line that baby with butter, then parchment (a circle of it for the bottom, then a long strip for the sides). Preheat oven to 350.

Step 1: Beat the butter, 1.5 C sugar, and both zests in a mixer on low. Add half the almond flour and mix until just combined.

Step 2: With the mixer running, add eggs one at a time, stopping to scrape down the bowl a couple times. Add the rest of the almond flour, regular flour, and salt and beat until smooth.

Step 3: Pour cake batter into pan and smooth it out. Bake for 50-60 min. Cake tester should come out a bit moist.

Step 4: When the cake is almost done, place the remaining 1/3 C sugar and the juices in a small saucepan to make the syrup. Bring to a boil and then remove from heat.

Step 5: As soon as the cake comes out of the oven, brush it with the boiling syrup, making sure all of it soaks in. It will feel like you have too much syrup. Trust me, keep brushing it on, or get impatient like I do and just pour it on a bit at a time. Then let the cake cool completely in the pan before you remove it. Garnish with orange peel strips and serve with birthday candles while singing Happy Birthday to me (see below).

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join this.

Upgrade to a paid version to participate in January’s special content.

This month, I’ll be offering four short audio devotionals as well as journal prompts through a passage in Jeremiah that really spoke to me recently. God had things to say to a people who were displaced, deeply grieving, traumatized, and unsure of what the future held. This feels like us, as a community, and so it felt fitting to start the new year out with encouragements I found there.

This series is part of my new offerings for Small Affairs paid members only. Each month, we’ll dig into something different. If you’re unsure, for only $5/month, I’d say try it out and see if the content meets you where you’re at right now. If you know you want in, then the annual subscription is the best deal. And you can always gift a subscription to a friend. Click below to check out the options.

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I’m keeping this newsletter a bit shorter this week, as we are all trying to adjust to regular, post-holiday life. Praying you’re finding comfort and peace as we begin to soak up 2022. May you find sweet surprises in your pockets.

You are the beloved,

Leslie

*Clementine cake and me, 2016