Tomorrow is just another day.

A fresh beginning to a new year, a clean page on life’s calendar, a symbolic start to better intentions, clarity in focus, or maybe nothing more than a simple sentimental morning to contemplate the parade of your life thus far.

I hope you will use the day off work with a little extra time to clear slates and imagine how the new year might unfold for you.

Others will wake desperate for aspirin and coffee, football distractions or to clean up wild night messes before sleeping away the day’s remains from which they only recently arrived home.

I suspect more than a sober few will be thinking deeper thoughts throughout the day. Plans for self-restraint, how to be a little nicer, quit a bad habit, or start one better.

For curious and contemplative minds the options are limitless.

So, applause to those making use of this new day as a personal prompt for positive change, at least in thought, if not in deed. It’s a good day for it.

Some require an external catalyst, a nodal event, or an arbitrary date of a year to propel them into deeper thoughts and richer inner lives.

Shocked or startled, they may shake to their cores, begging for change, repeating that awful truth that once again, they waited for something to force their hand.

Regardless, there is a glorious redemption that the only difference between last year’s regrets and this year’s successes is just another day, like today, and how we will use it.

Me?
Bonelessly.

It took all of 65 new years, but I can finally say I’ve no known skeletons left in my closet.

At my peak, I held more dirty little secrets than a poker table at midnight.

Some were revealed by God, some by others without my consent, but the rest have since been made known to the world through working the steps of my recovery program.

Most are captured in stories on my website LifeMeansSoMuch.com, showcased as subject matter to illustrate the redeeming power of God’s love.

Before a recent recovery meeting, a friend and I discussed the power of personal testimony and in the process, revealed many personal misgivings of our own sordid pasts, vowing to write our own detailed respective recovery testimonies in hopes of sharing them with others some day.

Particular dreams and driving destinations can still rattle my cage with memories of my unholy times but despite how painful the memories can be, none are hidden.

Boneless.
No skeletons in my closets.

A clear conscience is a severely underestimated blessing that can free you from the chains of shame and regret.

What’s still in your closet that God doesn’t already forgive?

Nothing.

The highest and best use to start my new year is with a fresh inventory of what skeletons I risk dragging in from the old into the new.

I’m relieved to report I’m boneless.

And it feels so good.