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Rebuking the toilet

Two years ago, I shared a Sweet New Year encouragement, little knowing the year in store for my family. Our year of "Sweet" turned out to be a year of  "Sick". Illness after illness rocked us. It was almost comical. A cancer scare turned out to be nothing, but added a surgery to the mix. What a year! But it was sweet. Honest. Through it all, Sweet was the word of the year.

The next year wasn't so sweet. Wow, did 2017 stink. It was a seriously terrible year. For so many around me, it was a very rough year. I stopped naming years last year, but it chose it's own word: Survive.

As if to sum it up with vivid imagery, we wrapped up the last day of 2017 with a stomach bug. I held my daughter's head as she tossed her cookies, thinking to myself, "Just a couple more hours and this ghastly year is over." When my toilet stopped up and I had to sanitize the floor, I wasn't discouraged. I scrubbed and rejoiced that it was almost over.


This morning, on this first beautiful day of 2018, a friend sent me a message saying, "2017 is flushed and gone away." She had no idea that I'd been struggling with a clogged toilet, so the irony was especially hilarious. I choose to believe that my backed up toilet is NOT symbolic and that 2017 is NOT going to come back up to taint my new year with its stench.

The day itself is all the symbolism I need. A New Year. A fresh start, a clean slate. The old has gone, the new has come.