I’ve never chosen one word for the year as seems to be the fashion lately. If you’re not familiar with the concept, you simply scrap the lists of resolutions and focus your efforts on one word. For example, “joy,” “courage,” “mindful,” or “simplify.” Had I chosen a word for the year, I think it would’ve been “reap.”
In my 21st year of marriage, 15th year of motherhood, and the 20th year in this house, for some reason, I feel like I’m doing a lot of reaping. And contrary to the old Blue Oyster Cult classic, “Don’t Fear the Reaper” doesn’t seem like such good advice whether you add more cowbell or not.
I’m linking up with 
