As we look back over this year, we see a single thread woven through every lesson, challenge, and invitation: the call to stop striving and start thriving. We began the year exhausted and longing for rest, unsure how to juggle our responsibilities and spiritual health. Yet month by month, the Lord gently led us on a journey toward peace, purpose, and freedom.
At the beginning of the year, I asked if you were weary—tired of running, tired of juggling, tired of constant demands that drain the best of life from your soul? Jesus’ invitation in Matthew 11:28 met us there: “Come to Me… and I will give you rest.” We longed to make 2025 a year of true thriving, not endless striving.
As we embraced this intentional reflection, we began to see how our culture’s obsession with productivity fuels our exhaustion. We learned that constant activity does not produce a flourishing life. In fact, stillness is often the most productive choice we can make. By honoring God’s call to “Be still, and know that I am God,” we made room for our minds to reset, our spirits to settle, and our creativity to return. We learned to not only give our bodies sleep—but also to provide rest for our souls.
Early in the year we paused to examine the rock we’ve been pushing—those burdens, expectations, and definitions of success that drain us of joy. We evaluated whether our ladders were leaning against the right walls, or if we’d been climbing toward someone else’s idea of success. We discovered that when we spend our time, energy, and attention on pursuits that aren’t aligned with God’s calling for us, we pay a steep opportunity cost—trading the life we want for one we were never meant to live.
We recognized how material things, schedules, and expectations silently drain us. The intangible cost of our tangibles surprised us: the emotional load of maintaining our stuff, the time lost to managing it, the comparison it fuels, the way it steals joy and rest. That awareness deepened through my deeply personal journey of being forced to downsize—moving from a full home to a small apartment with very little notice. This experience became a holy purge, a forced confrontation with what really matters. We realized how quickly the things we’ve spent decades accumulating can vanish—and how freeing it feels when they do.
Through that refining fire, we learned the value of living with less while loving with more. We remembered Jesus’ words about storing treasures in heaven, not in storage bins. We saw that what endures is relationship, community, and faith—not stuff. On the other side of the loss, grief, and the overwhelming swirl of change, we emerged with a renewed commitment to “enough.” Not scarcity, not excess—just the beauty of soul-satisfying enough.
Amid all this, we also reflected on the deeper freedom we long for: freedom in truth. As we celebrated Independence Day, we acknowledged that while earthly freedoms are meaningful, the freedom found in Jesus is unmatched. It is not political or circumstantial; it is spiritual. Jesus, who is the Truth, invites us into a freedom that is experienced through obedience, discipleship, and trust. We recognized that many of us remain bound—not because freedom isn’t available, but because we don’t fully walk in the truth that sets us free. Faith, we learned, is the pathway to ultimate liberation.
Throughout this year, God gently guided us away from striving and toward thriving. He exposed our misplaced pursuits, invited us into rest, freed us from lies, and led us to release our grip on the things that drain us. He reminded us that the life He offers is not one of burnout, bondage, or busyness, but of freedom, clarity, purpose, and peace.
And now, standing on this side of the journey, we can say with conviction:
We are enough because He is enough.
We can rest because He is faithful.
We can stop striving because He is our source.
We can thrive because in Him we have all that we need.
As we reflect on the articles of this past year, we see that every step has called us back to Jesus—the One who frees us, sustains us, shapes us, and lovingly teaches us how to live with open hands and an open heart. May we continue to walk in His freedom, rest in His presence, and trust that the life He calls us to is not one of proving, producing, or performing—but one of abiding, flourishing, and becoming who He designed us to be.
As we look back over this year, we recognize a gentle thread woven through every lesson, every challenge, and every moment of growth: the faithfulness of God. Again and again, He has invited us to trust Him more deeply, to anchor ourselves not in what we see, but in who He is. Like Abraham, who “believed the Lord, and He credited it to him as righteousness” (Genesis 15:6), we, too, are learning to take God at His word—to let belief become the soil where obedience grows.
We remember the words of Paul, reminding us that we “walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7). And as we trace the path behind us and prepare for the one ahead, we hold fast to God’s promise that “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 1:6).
Our year has been shaped by His steadfast hand, and we step into what’s next with renewed confidence that He is guiding, forming, and sustaining us every step of the way.
Closing Prayer
Heavenly Father, we thank You for Your presence that has carried us through this year. Thank You for every reminder that You are trustworthy, every moment when You strengthened our faith, and every place where You invited us to grow. As we enter a new season and a new year, we ask that You deepen our belief, steady our steps, and align our hearts with Yours. Teach us to listen for Your voice, respond with courage, and rest in Your unfailing love. We offer this year—past, present, and future—into Your hands. May our lives bring You glory. Amen.