the new.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!

2 Corinthians 5:17

Happy New Year. A fresh start. A different beginning. A hopeful perspective. A clean slate. Promises made. Goals set. Looking ahead. A new year.

I have never been one for resolutions. I honestly can not think of one resolution I made for my life. Don't misunderstand me, I am a HUGE proponent of striving for accomplishments. I love when I discover change in my life that only injects a healthy dose of reality. I like new. In fact, I welcome it.

A new coat of paint. A new candle scent. A new book. A new layer of snow. (did I just say that?) A new hair style. A new puppy. A new coat. A new address. A new dollar bill .

A new wheelchair.

Yup, it has been five years. And my insurance affords me the opportunity for a new wheelchair.

Let's be honest. I have mixed emotions.

It will be "fun" to sport the new wheels. I will enjoy the better shock system. The blue color will provide a sense of freshness. I look forward to a "clean" chair. The horn will hopefully be a bit more intimidating than this poor excuse of a sound. I am confident that this change will prompt less visits to Harry, my wheelchair mechanic. And I welcome the change.

A new wheelchair. That means it has been five years.

That's the part that is painful. I have been in a wheelchair for five years. I have lived with FA for over fifteen years. It's ever changing. Both physically and emotionally. And they have been dramatic changes. Physically and emotionally.

It is easy for all the "fun" of the new wheels to be tainted by the irritation of doing life in a wheelchair. Of living with FA.

And this defeats the happiness of the new year. So instead I will focus on the possibilities that this new year brings. I gaze upon this photo that my friend Becky took shortly after the clinical study with Chantix and I smile.

It reminds me that there will be a cure soon. It is a photo that shows me that soon, that wheelchair will be left in the dust, for good.

...the old has gone, the new has come.

Until then, look out for my sporty new chair. It just may come with a fog horn.