The Forge

I am aware that this is generally associated with Christmas, but since it actually means "good times passing" I will use it whenever I please. Particularly since this is the eve of a new year, and a particularly important year. After all, consider the following aspects of the upcoming solar revolution:

-I don't care that Casino Royale just came out, this is clearly the year of the Bond. Usually when we want to abbreviate a year, we say '04, '05, '06. This year you can all write '007. Scratch that-- you will all write '007.
-I am graduating high school. I can therefore look forward to an entire summer of freedom, followed by harder and (hopefully) more meaningful work than I am (not) doing now.
-I have another opportunity to come up with a list of activities and events that would be beneficial to me but, as always, I will never accomplish.
-I. Notice that all of these begin with I. Apparently the most important thing about 2007 is that I will be in it.
-This list sucks.

Anyhow, it would be pointless to try to culminate all of the experiences and emotions that a person endures throughout this unit of time we call a year. As for myself, I remember love, rejection, depression, and a seriously long period of apathy. I wrote "see ya next summer" for the last time in a yearbook. I remember the last first day of school. I've had deep conversations with friends (mostly Jonathan) about the state of various things, including our youth group, spirituality, life, death, Heaven, Hell, movies, music, people, and other uninteresting topics. I've come to many conclusions and rejected many others. I've learned a bit about keeping my mouth shut, but not nearly enough. I've made friends. I've lost others.


The two-thousand-and-sixth year of our Lord (give or take 7 years; the calendar makers are after all only human) has been a rollercoaster for us all. Next year promises the same. Except this roller coaster is different from those at Six Flags. This ride is one-of-a-kind. You don't have a choice--you must get on. You only get to ride it once. Some people, too frightened to handle it, decide to get off before the ride has come to a complete stop, and for those people I have a tremendous amount of pity. To me, it's an experience that I never want to end. The track in front of us is always in the dark, although when you get to the highs and lows you get glimpses of what's ahead. You can look back, but you're likely to get stuck in hindsight. Inevitably you'll forget most of the ride. The corkscrews, the hills, the neck-breaking speed at which you were hurled towards the ground, saved at the last moment: these are what make the ride worth it.

So here's to the hope that the ride doesn't end next year for any of us. That it is fun, exciting, and never too terrifying to bear. The hope that, if you need someone's hand to clench when the ride gets tough to handle, you'll find that hand, either in love or in God, or both. The hope that, if you've fallen asleep, you'll wake up before someone does something drastic to get your attention. Here's to 2007. May next new years' auld lang syne be better than these.