Embracing Grace and Growth: Reflecting on a New Year
As we step into 2025, I find myself reflecting on something unique about this year. The dates align perfectly with 2020—Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday—all falling on the same days of the week. It’s such a small detail, but it feels monumental to me. 2020 wasn’t just another year; it was a turning point, a time when everything shifted. It was the year of COVID, I turned 18, lost my grandfather, and graduated high school—all within a whirlwind of chaos and change. It was the year that forced me to grow up faster than I was ready for, to face the realities of adulthood head-on, and to start figuring out who I was and who I wanted to become.
I’ve carried so much of 2020 with me over the past five years—the lessons, the heartbreak, the moments of joy, and the overwhelming sense of uncertainty. As the clock struck midnight this past New Year’s Eve, I felt a deep shift in my soul, a nudge from the Holy Spirit that was impossible to ignore. It felt like God was saying, “Here’s your chance to start fresh, to let go of the heaviness you’ve been carrying, and to step into something new.”
This idea of a "reset" isn’t new to me. I think we all crave resets—whether it’s the start of a new week, a new month, or even something as small as rearranging our room. We find ways to refresh, to restart, to feel like we’re stepping into something better. But this year feels different. There’s something deeply personal about it, almost as if I’m being given permission to rewrite the narrative I’ve been holding onto since 2020.
Last year was hard. I don’t want to call it a train wreck, but it derailed more than a few times. I came into 2024 with big plans, overly ambitious goals, and a mindset that I could somehow control every aspect of my life. I wanted to fix everything—my anxiety, my struggles, my insecurities. I planned and overplanned, trying to map out a year that was perfect on paper. But life doesn’t work that way. God doesn’t work that way.
2024 tested my faith in ways I never expected. As someone new to my walk with Christ, I was baptized in July of 2023 and entered 2024 with so much hope. But I quickly realized that following Jesus doesn’t mean life gets easier; it means learning to lean on Him through the hardest moments. And there were many hard moments. From a rocky start to the year, riddled with anxiety and work stress, to a car accident, it felt like I was being knocked down repeatedly.
Looking back, I see now that those trials weren’t punishments or signs of failure. They were opportunities to grow, to deepen my faith, and to learn how to trust God’s plan over my own. There were moments where I felt completely connected to Him, His presence wrapping around me like a warm embrace. But there were also times when I felt lost, disconnected, and unsure if He was even in the room with me. Those moments were hard to navigate, but they taught me something profound: faith isn’t about perfection. It’s about showing up, even when it’s messy.
As a recovering perfectionist, that’s a lesson I’m still learning. My therapist, my mom, and even my closest friends have all pointed out how my need for everything to be perfect often gets in my own way. And they’re right. Last year, I put so much pressure on myself to achieve, to improve, to “get it together” that I burnt myself out before I even had a chance to start.
This year, I’m doing things differently. I’m not setting a million goals or trying to fix everything. I’m focusing on small, tangible steps—things that bring me joy and align with who I want to be. I want to spend more time outside, pick up a new hobby, and let go of the pressure to be perfect. Most importantly, I want to trust God’s timing, His plan, and His love for me.
2025 feels like a reset, not because the calendar says so, but because I’m choosing to let it be. I’m letting go of the weight of the past five years and stepping into this year with grace for myself and hope for what’s ahead. I don’t know what this year will bring, but I do know this: it’s not about having it all figured out. It’s about embracing the journey, finding joy in the little things, and leaning on God every step of the way.
If you’ve made it this far, I want to say thank you for reading. I hope my journey resonates with you in some way. And if you’ve had a rocky start to the year, know that you’re not alone. Life isn’t about perfection—it’s about progress, faith, and finding peace in the chaos. Let’s step into 2025 together, ready to embrace whatever comes our way. We’ve got this.
