I have moved the blog to http://www.connectmentoringnetwork.org – but this is a personal one, thought I’d leave it here. Maybe you and I will visit from time to time at this site in 2026…. Let’s visit today, friend

I don’t think I realized how much 2025 took out of me until I finally paused long enough to look back. It was a year of so many changes—some expected, some sudden, some welcome, some unwelcome. A year where my mental, spiritual, and physical reserves were stretched in ways I never anticipated. In the same twelve months, grief can sit beside joy, loss can hold hands with gain, and exhaustion can coexist with wonder. That was the paradox, the tension, the beauty of this year.

Some years ask more of us than others. Some years feel like an uphill climb. Some years stretch us until we’re not sure how much more we can give. 2025 was that year for me.

Some years give more than we ever expected. Some years feel like a downhill run with the wind at your back. Some years fill you until you’re not sure your heart can hold any more gratitude. 2025 was that year for me.

All the changes—good ones, hard ones, and everything in between—pulled at my mental, spiritual, and physical energy. There were days I handled it with grace, and days I handled it with grit. 

And then there were days I handled it only because God held me together. (Can anyone else relate to “fake it ‘til you make it”? Those 29 years of “pastor’s wife frozen smile and I’m fine” came in handy on some days…. )

Some things this year turned out exactly as I had hoped or envisioned. Those were the moments that felt like fresh air—like God placing a gentle hand on my shoulder and whispering, “See? I’m working.”

Other things turned out so differently I had to fight to keep my footing. I had to remind myself to breathe, to pray, to steady my heart.

Some things came to such an abrupt halt that it made my head spin. Change that sudden can be jarring, even when we know God is sovereign.

And then—right alongside the hard—there were moments so full of joy I could hardly contain them. Laughter that surprised me. Blessings that overwhelmed me. Grace that arrived at the perfect moment. 

This year, seasons ended. New seasons began. Some doors closed quietly, others slammed shut. Some opened gently, and some burst open wide with opportunity.

Joy and grief sat in the same room.

Consolation and celebration shared the same table.

Loss and gain held hands.

I learned—again—that life rarely separates its emotions neatly.

2025 was that year for me.

Yet through every part of it, God was in it all: not just at the points of triumph, not only in the moments of clarity. He was present in the chaos, the confusion, the uncertainty, the exhaustion.

He was faithful when I felt strong.

He was faithful when I felt undone.

He celebrated when I celebrated.

Some days, He showed me the entire picture—how things fit together, where He was leading, how the pieces connected, how the dark was overcome by the light.

Other days, all I could see was the dark contrast. I couldn’t trace the outline. I couldn’t see the movement. I just had to trust that the dark would work with the light, that His hand was still shaping something good, that tomorrow would bring the illumination I lacked today.

2025 was that year for me.

I remembered an old song, and as the lyrics flooded back with all the memories that came along with it, I couldn’t stop the tears: 

Tears and fears and feeling proud to say, “I love you, ” right out loud

Dreams and schemes and circus crowds, I’ve looked at life that way

But now old friends, they’re acting strange; they shake their heads, tell me that I’ve changed

Well, something’s lost, but something’s gained in living every day

I’ve looked at life from both sides now, from win and lose and still somehow

It’s life’s illusions I recall, I really don’t know life at all

The gift is that I don’t have to know life at all – I have to know the One who holds all the days that string together to make a life.  I’m so grateful He holds this for me.

I think that’s one of the hidden gifts of a hard year, a blessed year, a growing year, a year that was all things at once: it teaches us to trust God not only when we understand Him, but also when we don’t. It teaches us that His goodness is not dependent on our clarity, and His faithfulness is not limited by our strength or our weakness.

Looking back, I can say this with certainty:

• God did not waste a single moment of my 2025.
• He used every joy, every shock, every ending, every beginning.
• He held every tear and strengthened every step.
• He stayed close when my world felt unsteady 
• He celebrated with me when new life blossomed.

And as I step into a new year, I’m carrying these truths with me:

• Even when something is lost, something is gained.
• Even when the scene changes, God remains.
• Even when I can’t see the full picture, His hands are already framing the next chapter.

And the next chapter is good – it will be good for you, too. As the psalmist said in 65:11, “You crown the year with Your goodness , And Your paths drip with abundance.” He did that in 2025 – 2025 was that year for me, His goodness, His abundance, exactly what I didn’t know to ask for. He’ll do it again in 2026, in 2027, in 2028, and so on until Jesus Christ returns. We are assured of that too, that  “He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ” (Phil. 1:6). 

I don’t know what the coming year will bring, but I do know this—I will walk into it with the same God who faithfully carried me through this one. His faithfulness and steadfast love is always the treasure ❤