After the Resolutions
When Resolutions Fade: Finding Hope in the Wilderness
We're now several days into the new year, and if we're being honest, reality has already started to set in. The gym parking lot isn't quite as full. That kale sitting in the crisper is looking a little sadder. The expensive water bottle is still in the car, and that daily devotional streak? Well, there's always Monday.
This is the honest stretch of January where the excitement fades and life rushes back in with full force. The calendar fills up, the emails multiply, and suddenly we're right back where we started, wondering if anything will actually change this year.
But what if the point isn't to try harder? What if lasting transformation doesn't begin with pressure, but with presence?
The Problem with Our Plans
Every January starts the same way—with hope, optimism, and the deep belief that this will finally be the year everything clicks into place. We make our lists, set our goals, and promise ourselves that this time will be different.
And then life happens.
The truth is, most of us approach the new year by asking, "How do I overhaul my entire life by February?" when we should be asking, "What is actually at the center of my life?"
Because what you center your life on determines what holds you steady when things get busy, loud, or unpredictable. If your life is centered on your plans, you panic when they fall apart. If your center is focused on your progress, you get discouraged when it's slower than you hoped.
But when your life is centered in Christ, there's a steadiness that doesn't disappear just because the week went sideways.
A Word from the Wilderness
Isaiah 43:18-19 speaks directly into moments like this: "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland."
These verses offer three powerful invitations for anyone stepping into a new year—not resolutions, but directions. No checkboxes, no guilt, no color-coded planner required.
Let Go of What Holds You Back
God begins with a firm but gentle command: "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past."
He's not asking us to develop amnesia or pretend things didn't happen. He's saying: stop living there. Stop setting up camp in yesterday. Stop pitching a tent in old mistakes, old wounds, old versions of yourself.
Many of us have selective memory. We forget God's faithfulness but remember our failures in high definition. We forget the prayers He answered but can quote word-for-word the moments we blew it. We forget how He carried us through, but we replay on repeat the impatience, the sin, the broken promises, the missed opportunities.
The past is a great teacher, but a terrible landlord. Learn from it, thank God for what it taught you, but don't give it a lease in your new year.
Your worst moments do not get to define your future. Your failures are not your final word. Your past chapters may explain you, but they do not own you.
God Is Already at Work
God says, "See, I am doing a new thing." Not "I will do" someday after you fix a few things. Present tense. Active. Right now.
Even if you're tired, discouraged, or quietly disappointed with how life is looking at the moment, God is already at work. He's not waiting. He's not stalled. He's not behind schedule.
The problem is, God's new thing often doesn't look impressive at first. It doesn't come with fireworks or a dramatic soundtrack. Most of the time, it looks painfully ordinary—a nudge you can't shake, a whisper you keep hearing, a softened heart where bitterness used to live, a desire returning that you thought was gone for good.
Sometimes God's new thing starts so small, so subtle, that you could miss it entirely if you're only looking for big, dramatic change.
We live in a world of instant downloads and same-day delivery. If something takes longer than three business days, we assume it's broken. So when God doesn't move on our schedule, we start tapping our foot in impatience.
But rushed roots don't hold up in the storm. A tree that grows too fast topples when the wind blows. Faith that skips the slow, quiet forming often struggles when things get hard.
Don't miss what feels small. Don't underestimate what feels slow. That tiny step of obedience might be the beginning of something sacred.
God Specializes in Impossible Paths
"I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland."
God doesn't say He'll make a way when the wilderness clears up. He says He's making a way right now—in the middle of it.
The wilderness is where we see obstacles, but it's where God sees opportunity. When we say wilderness, we mean lost, uncomfortable, not part of the plan. But when God says wilderness, He means formation, revelation, dependence, transformation.
The wilderness is not where God abandons His people—it's where He shows up in ways we couldn't experience anywhere else.
Maybe your wilderness looks like a fractured relationship, a financial strain that keeps you awake at night, a habit you've tried to break more times than you can count, a faith that feels tired and thin, or a future that feels completely unclear.
If that's you, here's the good news: you're not disqualified. You're positioned.
God doesn't wait for the wilderness to end before He moves. He moves through it.
Fix Your Eyes on Jesus
Hebrews 12:2 tells us to "fix our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith." Not on our goals, not on our habits, not on how well everyone else seems to be doing.
When you fix your eyes on yourself, you become either proud or discouraged depending on how your week is going. But when you fix your eyes on Jesus, you become steady.
True transformation isn't self-powered—it's Christ-powered. Life was never meant to be lived on sheer determination, caffeine, and good intentions.
So instead of starting the year with "new year, new me," what if we started with "new year, same faithful God, and that's enough"?
After the Resolutions Fade
After your best intentions wobble, after the planner gets messy, after the routine slips and motivation takes a coffee break, God is still faithful. God is still good. And God is still making a way.
Let go of last year's failures. Open your eyes to what God is doing. Trust Him in the wilderness. And keep your eyes fixed on Jesus—not on your progress, not on your performance, but on your Savior.
God is doing a new thing right now. It's already springing up, sometimes quietly, sometimes slowly, but always faithfully.
Don't miss it just because you're waiting for perfect conditions. Don't overlook it because it doesn't look flashy yet. Don't doubt it because you're still trying to figure things out.
The God who made streams in the desert, the God who makes roads in the wilderness, the God who holds all things together is already at work in you. And that is more than enough to step into this year with hope, courage, and joy.
We're now several days into the new year, and if we're being honest, reality has already started to set in. The gym parking lot isn't quite as full. That kale sitting in the crisper is looking a little sadder. The expensive water bottle is still in the car, and that daily devotional streak? Well, there's always Monday.
This is the honest stretch of January where the excitement fades and life rushes back in with full force. The calendar fills up, the emails multiply, and suddenly we're right back where we started, wondering if anything will actually change this year.
But what if the point isn't to try harder? What if lasting transformation doesn't begin with pressure, but with presence?
The Problem with Our Plans
Every January starts the same way—with hope, optimism, and the deep belief that this will finally be the year everything clicks into place. We make our lists, set our goals, and promise ourselves that this time will be different.
And then life happens.
The truth is, most of us approach the new year by asking, "How do I overhaul my entire life by February?" when we should be asking, "What is actually at the center of my life?"
Because what you center your life on determines what holds you steady when things get busy, loud, or unpredictable. If your life is centered on your plans, you panic when they fall apart. If your center is focused on your progress, you get discouraged when it's slower than you hoped.
But when your life is centered in Christ, there's a steadiness that doesn't disappear just because the week went sideways.
A Word from the Wilderness
Isaiah 43:18-19 speaks directly into moments like this: "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland."
These verses offer three powerful invitations for anyone stepping into a new year—not resolutions, but directions. No checkboxes, no guilt, no color-coded planner required.
Let Go of What Holds You Back
God begins with a firm but gentle command: "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past."
He's not asking us to develop amnesia or pretend things didn't happen. He's saying: stop living there. Stop setting up camp in yesterday. Stop pitching a tent in old mistakes, old wounds, old versions of yourself.
Many of us have selective memory. We forget God's faithfulness but remember our failures in high definition. We forget the prayers He answered but can quote word-for-word the moments we blew it. We forget how He carried us through, but we replay on repeat the impatience, the sin, the broken promises, the missed opportunities.
The past is a great teacher, but a terrible landlord. Learn from it, thank God for what it taught you, but don't give it a lease in your new year.
Your worst moments do not get to define your future. Your failures are not your final word. Your past chapters may explain you, but they do not own you.
God Is Already at Work
God says, "See, I am doing a new thing." Not "I will do" someday after you fix a few things. Present tense. Active. Right now.
Even if you're tired, discouraged, or quietly disappointed with how life is looking at the moment, God is already at work. He's not waiting. He's not stalled. He's not behind schedule.
The problem is, God's new thing often doesn't look impressive at first. It doesn't come with fireworks or a dramatic soundtrack. Most of the time, it looks painfully ordinary—a nudge you can't shake, a whisper you keep hearing, a softened heart where bitterness used to live, a desire returning that you thought was gone for good.
Sometimes God's new thing starts so small, so subtle, that you could miss it entirely if you're only looking for big, dramatic change.
We live in a world of instant downloads and same-day delivery. If something takes longer than three business days, we assume it's broken. So when God doesn't move on our schedule, we start tapping our foot in impatience.
But rushed roots don't hold up in the storm. A tree that grows too fast topples when the wind blows. Faith that skips the slow, quiet forming often struggles when things get hard.
Don't miss what feels small. Don't underestimate what feels slow. That tiny step of obedience might be the beginning of something sacred.
God Specializes in Impossible Paths
"I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland."
God doesn't say He'll make a way when the wilderness clears up. He says He's making a way right now—in the middle of it.
The wilderness is where we see obstacles, but it's where God sees opportunity. When we say wilderness, we mean lost, uncomfortable, not part of the plan. But when God says wilderness, He means formation, revelation, dependence, transformation.
The wilderness is not where God abandons His people—it's where He shows up in ways we couldn't experience anywhere else.
Maybe your wilderness looks like a fractured relationship, a financial strain that keeps you awake at night, a habit you've tried to break more times than you can count, a faith that feels tired and thin, or a future that feels completely unclear.
If that's you, here's the good news: you're not disqualified. You're positioned.
God doesn't wait for the wilderness to end before He moves. He moves through it.
Fix Your Eyes on Jesus
Hebrews 12:2 tells us to "fix our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith." Not on our goals, not on our habits, not on how well everyone else seems to be doing.
When you fix your eyes on yourself, you become either proud or discouraged depending on how your week is going. But when you fix your eyes on Jesus, you become steady.
True transformation isn't self-powered—it's Christ-powered. Life was never meant to be lived on sheer determination, caffeine, and good intentions.
So instead of starting the year with "new year, new me," what if we started with "new year, same faithful God, and that's enough"?
After the Resolutions Fade
After your best intentions wobble, after the planner gets messy, after the routine slips and motivation takes a coffee break, God is still faithful. God is still good. And God is still making a way.
Let go of last year's failures. Open your eyes to what God is doing. Trust Him in the wilderness. And keep your eyes fixed on Jesus—not on your progress, not on your performance, but on your Savior.
God is doing a new thing right now. It's already springing up, sometimes quietly, sometimes slowly, but always faithfully.
Don't miss it just because you're waiting for perfect conditions. Don't overlook it because it doesn't look flashy yet. Don't doubt it because you're still trying to figure things out.
The God who made streams in the desert, the God who makes roads in the wilderness, the God who holds all things together is already at work in you. And that is more than enough to step into this year with hope, courage, and joy.
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