“His mercies never end; they renew every morning.” ~ Laminations 3:23
Her city counted down the final
minutes of 2025 with laughter, fireworks, and bubbling flutes lifted skyward.
From her living room window, Tamika watched its glow reflect against the cold glass,
feeling as though she stood between two worlds - the year that had bruised her
and the unknown one waiting on the other side of midnight.
Her phone buzzed with “Happy New Year!” messages. Social
media filled with highlight reels - promotions, vacations, and smiling families
in coordinated pajamas. Tamika was genuinely happy for them… but her story
didn’t look that glossy. Hers had been part miracle and part mess.
There were days she rose with purpose, others when heaviness pinned her to the pillow. She laughed in kitchens and cried in parking lots.
If asked her to summarize her
year, she wouldn’t have a neat answer. It wasn’t entirely successful. It wasn’t
all sorrow, either. It was… human. Holy in parts. Heavy in others. Still
unfinished.
As the clock crept toward midnight, the familiar pressure whispered:
You should be happier. More grateful. More “together” by now. But
something inside her resisted the urge to pretend.
So Tamika prayed something far more honest: “God… this
year was beautiful and painful. Some things healed. Other things still hurt. But,
I’m still here - still healing and learning. And through it all… You remained
faithful.”
The honesty felt refreshing, like brilliant sunlight
breaking through a storm-darkened sky.
She realized God never asked for a polished testimony. He
welcomed her honesty. And in that stillness, something gentle settled over her
heart: God is not only at the finish line. He stands with us in the hallway
between what was and what will be.
As fireworks crackled across the night and the year shifted
forward, Tamika felt something deeper than celebration—hope. Not because her
story was finished, but because God was still writing it. It wasn’t perfection
that gave her peace; it was His presence. She wasn’t stepping into the future
alone. She was moving forward with courage, not pretending to be whole, but
confident that God would never abandon her.
And that… was enough!
Friends, Happy New Year to each of you. May you know you
don’t have to be perfect to be deeply loved. May you feel God’s nearness in
your questions, His comfort in your wounds, and His joy in your victories.
May this new year bring brave steps forward, deeper healing,
steady growth, and unexpected laughter. Whether you walk into 2026 with
confidence or trembling fear, remember - you aren’t alone, your story matters
to God. Never doubt His steadying grace.
Lord God, thank You for being faithful
through every joy and every struggle of this past year. I
don’t bring You perfection—I bring You my honest heart. Carry me into the new
year with Your mercy, Your strength, and Your presence. Amen
