I rarely make New Year’s resolutions, and I’m not sure if this counts as one, but around the end of December I noticed that whenever I was in church my eyes would be drawn to the big steel crossbeam in my favorite window.
I’d look at it, unable to look away, and think about what it means, why the cross was necessary in human history and my part in it.
I’d think about sin, my sin, and I’d find myself praying, “God, show me my sin, that I might hate it as much as you do.”