I Can't Make You

When I was young, New Year's Eve was all about parties, booze and whom I would kiss when the clock struck midnight. When my children were little guys, New Year's Eve was about getting together with other parents and their kiddos, junk food and banging pots and pans with spoons out on the front yard at midnight. When my children were teenagers, New Year's Eve was about church parties, playing games and being thankful my kids were safe and sound under my watchful eye. Tonight, New Year's Eve is about a crackling fire, a snoring wiener dog, a fleece blanket and a cup of hot tea.

As I'm sure is true for many of you, I've done a lot of thinking over the last few days about what the new year may bring. And in doing so, I couldn't help but think about the year past as it draws to a close. I've learned things over the last year that I never imagined I would learn, both good and not so good alike. If I tried to share with you every one of those lessons ... well ... I'd miss my fast-approaching midnight deadline for sure. But there's one ... one huge lesson ... I'd like to leave with you as this year ends and another begins.

I can't make you believe in me, and I can't make you believe in yourself. I can't make you embark on the new year with the hope that it will bring you happiness. I can't make you trust me, and I can't make you see that I have a good heart. I can't make you look at the year ahead as one that will be filled with challenges that will grow you and make you a better person. I can't make you like me or understand that I'm a loyal and faithful friend. I can't make you embrace the good things the new year will bring, nor can I make you believe that you'll overcome the not so good things. I can't make you believe that I care or that I'll listen or that I'll be there in your darkest hour. 

I can't make you hope, friends ... but I can hope for you. I pray the new year brings you peace and joy ... take care of each other.