Dear 2008:

I’ve never broken up with the past before, so I’ll be honest—this will be a little awkward. You’ve been great, but it’s not you, I promise. It’s me.

You’ve been very good to me this year, having taught me about the value of a simple life, the reward of slow and steady practice, the glory of aging a little bit at a time, and the sheer beauty of four separate seasons. I hardly knew you twelve months ago, but I’d heard about your reputation—that you would be better than 2007 and that an optimist would find you charming and good. They were right. You were all of those things.

But I was reading the Bible this morning and God said that there’s a time for everything under the sun. A part of me wishes I could keep you for a while longer. You’re safe and really, really predictable. I like that about the past. But God has new things for me and that means that I have to let you go.

And I should probably tell you that some people hurt me in 2008—and even before that. If I stay with you longer than God intended, then it’s quite possible that I will keep those things closer to my heart than I should. Sometimes I like to remind myself of who hurt me, and how it felt, and how I can possibly repay them. As long as you and I stay together, I’ll keep courting those feelings—maybe even end up getting married. That would be a huge mistake and we both know it. As one man said, forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future.

Another thing: you and I made some mistakes last year that I’ve repented for. I understand that God has flung them out of his sight, but if I keep you around, I’ll be tempted to repeat them. You have some of my dark secrets and I need to keep moving toward the light. I hope you understand.

Me and the Past—we go way back. I have a bad history of holding on to different years for too long, but this time I see some new adventures in the distance. The Bible speaks so often of hope and God uses all kinds of wonderful metaphors for our future: it can be winning a footrace, coming home to a faithful father, being rescued by a shepherd, or gaining a crown. I wish I could have stayed with you, but I must follow the path that stretches out in front of me.

All of this is not to say that I should’ve simply skipped you. That could never be true. Some people try to do that—hibernate for a year or more, wasting their life or numbing their life or even pausing their life until something better arrives. I loved you fully, and perhaps that is why I can say goodbye with such confidence and peace.

So this journey we’ve been on is all part of life, right? We were good together for awhile, but it’s only right that we say goodbye to each other. I’ve just met 2009, and I would never make a good mistress—trying to love two of you at once. The decent thing to do is to let you go, but to tell you that I won’t forget you. I hope you understand.

Love,