At the Threshold
New Year’s Eve always feels bigger than it needs to be.
We treat it like a stage.
As if something is required of us.
A summary. A statement. Proof that the year meant something.
But I’ve come to see it differently.
New Year’s Eve is not a stage.
It’s a threshold.
A narrow place between what was and what will be.
Not meant for performance.
Meant for honesty.
And if I’m honest, this was a challenging year.
Not loud.
Not chaotic.
Just unfamiliar in ways that forced me to pay attention.
The struggles of this year are one of the main reasons I started this blog.
I needed a place to put language around what was stirring in my spirit.
Because unnamed weight has a way of settling deeper than it should.
There were moments where confident steps gave way to uncertain footing.
Days when strength didn’t arrive on demand.
Seasons that asked more questions than they answered.
But thresholds have a strange gift.
They slow us down.
They limit what we can carry forward.
They make us choose what actually belongs with us.
Looking back, I can trace grace not in breakthroughs, but in balance.
In steadying moments.
In conversations that arrived right on time.
In mornings where God met me before I lost my footing.
Some prayers were answered this year.
Others required patience.
A few made sense only after the fact.
Tonight, I don’t need to declare anything.
I acknowledge what shaped me.
I release what no longer fits.
And I step forward carrying only what has proven it can endure.
This is not an ending.
It is not a beginning.
It is a crossing.
And that is enough for tonight.
If this year changed your pace more than your plans, share this with someone standing at the same threshold.
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