A new year

Finding spiritual growth in the ordinary

I am actually excited for a new year. As we counted down to 9 p.m. with our kiddos on New Year’s Eve, I exhaled with relief, rejoicing in the words, “Happy New Year!” My household was ready to let go of 2024 and embrace a fresh start. We needed a clean slate.

This isn’t my usual attitude as a new year approaches. Normally, as an obnoxiously positive and nostalgic person, I cling to the memories of the past year, cherishing all the wins and good times. And while I did take time to reflect on 2024, I find myself more eager than ever to step into what’s next.

I started this year differently than ever before. On December 30th, my husband and I had a “planning date.” (Yes, I insisted on using our babysitting to plan—I couldn’t help myself as an Enneagram 1.) We each journaled about our hopes and intentions for the coming year. Afterward we shared with each other our answers to the question, “Who do I want to be and what do I want to do?” Then we pulled out our calendars and mapped out the next six months.

Our intentions naturally overlapped—centered around deeper relationships, more time outdoors, and personal growth. Hosting people in our home regularly. Taking our kids on individual dates. Camping once a month. Training for running races. Creating space for what truly matters.

Only a week into the year, I feel propelled by a giddy and motivating clarity.

I’ve been running regularly. I took my son Beckham on a date. We’ve hosted families twice for dinner in our tiny 600-square-foot apartment. I’ve already booked several campsites with family and friends.

This planning meeting didn’t just give me a to-do list; it gave me a vision. It clarified the person I want to become. Preparation has catapulted self-actualization. That sense of clarity reminded me of the famous coach John Wooden’s words I’ve always loved: “Failing to prepare is preparing to fail.” And in so many ways, I find myself more prepared this year than ever before—to grow, to deepen, to live with intention.

As I reviewed my hopes, goals, and intentions for 2025, I realized none of them explicitly mentioned my spiritual life.

There was no, “Read my Bible more” or “Discover a new revelation about God.” Not even a resolution about reading theological books. As I write this, I find this quite comical. As a pastor who has dedicated my career to the spiritual life ... am I actually not that spiritual? Ha! 

While we could do a long-winded psychoanalysis of me, let’s hold off on that for now and I’ll offer this reflection. 

I think my 2025 intentions reflect Spirit moving more than I could even describe. I see God when I put away my phone and give my kiddos undivided attention—soaking up their beauty. I feel God when I step outside in the early morning for a run, my breath syncing with the rhythm of my feet hitting the pavement. I encounter God when we squeeze too many new or old friends around our tiny dining table, laughter echoing off the walls. I sense God’s presence when I sit by a campfire, wrapped in a blanket, watching the embers glow under a sky full of stars.

For many years now, especially the last several as a mom, I’ve encountered Spirit more in the ordinary than in the books I haven’t been able to read. My spirituality has shifted from structured disciplines or traditional study to embodied practices—presence, connection, play, wonder, justice, and transformation. Now don’t get me wrong, I still love studying theology. I have a hungry brain and see God in the pages too! 

Yet, curiously, in years past I might have written resolutions about praying more, reading more, or seeking spiritual breakthroughs. And while those can be valuable goals, this year I’ve shifted my focus to loving well, being deeply present, adventuring more, and caring for myself holistically. 

While at first glance it might seem like none of this is explicitly spiritual, it is deeply spiritual. Tuning in to God in the ordinary. Perhaps this is what my spiritual growth looks like in 2025.

So here’s to a year of paying attention, of deepening relationships, of seeking the divine in the everyday. A year when preparation creates space for transformation.

A year when I find God not just in the pages of a book, but in the life unfolding right in front of me.

Happy new year, friends. Let’s see God in the ordinary.