01/01/2026
The year does not announce itself
with fireworks once the noise fades.
It begins here slowly when light presses gently against the fog, when the city is still undecided about waking up.
In moments like this,
beginnings reveal their true nature.
They are rarely dramatic.
They are faithful.
Scripture puts it simply: “His mercies are new every morning” (Lamentations 3:23).
Not new every January.
Every morning.
Renewal is not an annual event;
it is a daily provision.
The fog lifts in stages,
not all at once,
and clarity does the same.
Standing here,
watching light return to familiar hills,
the reminder is quiet but firm:
we did not arrive at this year alone.
And we will not walk it unattended.
