As the Year Closes: Reflections on Faithfulness in the Fire
As I sit here at the end of 2025, I’m tempted to count the challenges this year brought, but honestly, I lost count somewhere along the way. If I’m being real with you, this wasn’t the year I envisioned last December. It was harder, messier, and more uncertain than I could have anticipated.
Yet here I am: still rolling, breathing, and still hoping… not because of my own strength; I ran out of that at the end of March.
Little did I know how much of a benchmark that week in hospital would become, but God remained faithful and true to His Word, because He cannot lie and His character does not change. He is and will continue to be the strong tower that I run into regardless of whatever storm I find myself in. For in Him, I am safe.
o be the strong tower that I run into regardless of whatever storm I find myself in. For in Him, I am safe.
Strength Sufficient for Each Day
There’s a reason Jesus taught us to pray for daily bread in Matthew 6:11. He knew we’d face days where we couldn’t see past tomorrow, where the weight of next week would crush us if we tried to carry it today. This year taught me that God’s provision isn’t always early or late… it’s always exactly on time. Enough manna for today. Enough strength for this second. He is more than enough.
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Cor. 12:9)
Each setback this year came with its own lesson tucked inside the layers of pain and suffering. Some lessons I’m still unpacking. Others hit me with sudden clarity in the middle of many sleepless nights.
I learned about surrender when control slipped through my fingers, again. I learned about the need for community when I finally admitted I couldn’t do it alone. I learned that faith extinguishes fear and holds, with such certainty, it becomes unshakeable.
An Anchor That Holds
My circumstances didn’t change as quickly as I wanted them to. Some situations are still unresolved as I write this. But somewhere in the middle of the mess, I discovered there are many levels to what Hebrews 6:19 means when it calls hope an anchor.
Anchors don’t stop the storm. They don’t calm the waves. They keep you from drifting when everything around you is chaos. They keep you from being dashed to pieces on the rocks of despair, grief, hopelessness, and loss. Anchors hold!
My hope isn’t anchored in better things coming (though I pray they do). It’s anchored in the character of a God who has never once failed His promises to me. He may not have removed the trials, but He walks through every single one with me.
Questions to Carry Into the New Year
- Where have you seen God’s faithfulness, even in small ways, this year?
- What lessons are hidden in your setbacks that you might have missed in your pain?
- Are you trying to carry tomorrow’s burdens with today’s grace?
- What does it look like for you to anchor your hope in God rather than in changing circumstances?
Moving Forward
I don’t know what 2026 holds. I’ve learned not to make bold goals. But I do know who holds it. And I know that His mercies are new every morning, as is His faithfulness. (Lamentations 3:22-23).
So I’m stepping into the new year with open hands—releasing what I cannot change and what is far outside of my control. I am putting my faith in my Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, whose birth we celebrate this Christmas season, for He alone is Sovereign over all things.
Whatever this year holds for you, may He meet you in every day.
