Here's to entering 2026 grounded.

It’s wild, isn’t it? A new year arrives, and somehow we can still feel the first day of the last one resting on our skin. As if time folded in on itself. As if it all just happened—because it did. Time rarely announces itself when it’s passing. It just moves. Quietly. Faithfully. And suddenly we’re standing here, wondering how we arrived so quickly and where the year went.

We spend so much of our lives bracing for what might go wrong. We worry about outcomes that never come. We replay conversations that never happen. We prepare ourselves for futures that dissolve the moment reality arrives. And all the while, we miss how often God has already met us in the middle of the very things we once feared. How many moments we survived. How many prayers were answered in ways we didn’t recognize at the time.

As we step into 2026, we’re choosing something different. Not more control—but more clarity. Not striving—but stewardship. We’ll take responsibility for what’s actually ours: our choices, our posture, our presence, our love. And we’ll give back what was never meant to be carried by human hands. Because control has never made us safer—it’s only made us tired. Trust, on the other hand, has always steadied us.

2025 taught us truths we don’t want to forget. Life is shorter than we think. People are always the point. And God has never—not once—lost control. So many of the moments we’re living right now were once whispered prayers, spoken in quieter seasons when we didn’t yet know how things would unfold.

This year, we want to notice. To slow our pace enough to feel what’s real. To love the people in front of us a little more intentionally. To stay awake to the sacredness hidden inside ordinary days. To tend what God has placed in our hands with care, and to release the rest without guilt or fear.

Not because we have answers—but because we trust the One who does.

Here’s to entering 2026 grounded. Present. And fully aware that goodness isn’t just coming—it’s already here.