I’ve been reading the Old Testament again. It’s been a few years since I went back to the beginning of the biblical narrative: the family drama of Genesis, the power of God in Exodus, the holiness of God in the Law, the heroes and villains of the old familiar stories. Then I came across this little verse at the beginning of Judges that broke my heart.

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The football pre-season is about to begin where I live. This year, my husband and I have season tickets to our local Rugby League team, the Brisbane Broncos. The season doesn’t start until March, but early in the new year, we went into our local sports store to buy our team jerseys. We are looking forward to taking our place in the stands with thousands of other Broncos supporters, proudly wearing our maroon and yellow, cheering for our team.

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I had a toothache yesterday. In fact, I’ve been putting up with the dull throbbing pain in my jaw for a few days now, dreading what it might mean and hoping it would go away. It didn’t. So yesterday, I put on my big girl brave pants and made an appointment to go to my dentist.

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The seasons are changing here where I live in Queensland, and so is my wardrobe. The days for cool summer tops, shorts and sundresses are over. I am pulling my winter clothes out of storage. How quickly I forget the clothes I own when I pack them away for a season. I always pull out clothes I completely forgot that I have. But, as much as I used to love these pieces, not all of them make it back to the closet for another season.

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Imagine this: You wake up on New Year’s morning to a fresh start. The dirty dishes you left in the sink the night before are clean and put away. The fridge door is sparkling clean, the sticky fingerprints nowhere to be seen. Holiday pounds have melted from your toned and fit body, and the wide-screen TV you’ve been struggling to save for stands proudly in the living room. Tada! What a wonderful fantasy!

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There’s a sign painted under the overpass I drive under on my way home. It’s positioned at a bend in the road, so I drive straight towards it. It’s impossible to miss. There is no context or attribution, no artwork, pretty colors or interesting font. But this simple sentence challenges me every time I drive past.

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