Stepping into 2026
Stepping Into Freedom: Why This Year Should Start With a Heart Reset
There's something peculiar about this week between Christmas and New Year's. The cookies are getting stale, our pants fit a little differently than they did two weeks ago, and we find ourselves caught in an odd tension between rest and reinvention. We're told we should be doing both simultaneously, though most of us aren't quite sure how.
As we stand at the threshold of a new year, many of us are looking backward and forward at the same time. We're reflecting on what we survived, what we lost, what we're proud of. And we're looking ahead to the person we want to become. But here's the uncomfortable truth many of us face: we keep wanting change, but we don't choose it.
Why is that?
When Comfort Becomes a Cage
One of the biggest obstacles to transformation isn't laziness—it's that our comfort has medicated us. Whether it's food, streaming services, doom scrolling, or the noise of constant busyness, these things never really fix what's broken. They just quiet the chaos enough for us to survive another week.
When God invites us into growth and change, it can feel like He's trying to take away our anesthesia. We've become so dependent on these coping mechanisms that the thought of releasing them feels dangerous, even though they're keeping us from the abundant life He promises.
The Danger of Familiar Dysfunction
Consider the Israelites in Egypt. Yes, they were in slavery and bondage, but they became familiar with it. They knew the menu. It wasn't ideal, but they knew what to expect.
Sometimes we stay in broken patterns simply because we've learned how to survive there.
We become so comfortable with our bondage that change feels more threatening than staying stuck. We don't know who we'd be without that habit. We don't know what we look like healed. And that's terrifying. We're more comfortable with familiar dysfunction than unfamiliar freedom.
The Weight of Trying Again
Perhaps the biggest barrier to change is the fear of failing again. We've tried before. We've made resolutions, set goals, declared this time would be different. And when we fell short, it revealed something we didn't want to face about ourselves.
So we stop fully trying. Because a half-hearted effort hurts less than full-hearted failure. We protect ourselves from disappointment by never fully investing in the change we claim to want.
What God Wants to Form, Not Just Fix
Here's a crucial distinction: there are things we want God to fix that He actually wants to form in us. We pray for deliverance—for God to remove us from difficult situations. But God often wants to use those very situations for our development. We want out of the struggle; He wants to redeem it through His strength.
When growth feels slow, we assume it's not working. But actually, it's doing exactly what it's supposed to do.
The Practice of Fasting
Hebrews 12:1 calls us to "strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up." This isn't about adding more to our already overwhelming to-do lists. It's about taking an honest look at what has our heart.
Fasting is one powerful way to identify and address the "less than" areas of our lives. It's not about twisting God's arm or earning His favor. Fasting doesn't change God—it changes us. It's simply saying, "I am done letting my appetites run my life."
And our appetites aren't just about food. We have appetites for attention, validation, comfort, and noise. Fasting exposes what actually controls our hearts.
What Are You Carrying Into the New Year?
Many of us aren't just stepping into 2026—we're dragging 2025 (and earlier years) with us. We're carrying resentment, the quiet whisper that says, "I've done everything right, and my life is still harder than people who don't even try."
Or maybe it's exhaustion. We've baptized our burnout and called it faithfulness. Underneath, there's a quiet belief that God can handle the universe, but He can't handle it on our schedule. So we keep running on fumes.
Perhaps it's unhealed grief—we've learned how to survive without someone or something, but we never learned how to live again. We show up, we smile when people ask how we're doing, but something that should have been holy was never buried, just stored.
Or maybe it's those quiet habits—the things that don't look particularly destructive but have slowly taken control. The glass of wine that used to help us unwind but now determines when the night is over. The scrolling that keeps us from being present with people in the room.
The Promise of True Fasting
Isaiah 58 describes what happens when we fast with the right heart: chains are loosened, burdens are untangled, and the heavens open. Fasting doesn't bring God closer to us—it reveals how close He already is.
True fasting leads to freedom. Addiction patterns break. Relationships heal. We hear His voice more clearly. We feel more secure in His love.
Deciding Into the Life God Designed
You don't drift into the life God designed for you. You decide into it. The New Testament word "metanoia" means to change how we think, to change our mind, to turn and go a different direction.
Most of us don't stay the same because we don't want to change. We stay the same because we've learned how to survive. But God isn't inviting us to survive—He's inviting us to fully live.
This isn't about having a better January. It's about having a better trajectory. It's about becoming who He's called us to be. It's about finally experiencing what being a new creation means: the old has passed away, behold, all things become new.
There's nothing easy about fasting. There's nothing easy about change. But He is present, willing, and capable of walking you into becoming the person you were destined to be.
The question isn't about His faithfulness—it's about our willingness to participate. Will we take the steps, do the work, and trust Him through the process?
What if this could be the year you look back and say, "God did something monumental in me. The changes lasted. I tried and failed before, but I've seen His faithfulness now"?
The invitation is before you. Not compulsory. Not mandated. Just offered with open hands and a loving heart. Will you respond?
As we stand at the threshold of a new year, many of us are looking backward and forward at the same time. We're reflecting on what we survived, what we lost, what we're proud of. And we're looking ahead to the person we want to become. But here's the uncomfortable truth many of us face: we keep wanting change, but we don't choose it.
Why is that?
When Comfort Becomes a Cage
One of the biggest obstacles to transformation isn't laziness—it's that our comfort has medicated us. Whether it's food, streaming services, doom scrolling, or the noise of constant busyness, these things never really fix what's broken. They just quiet the chaos enough for us to survive another week.
When God invites us into growth and change, it can feel like He's trying to take away our anesthesia. We've become so dependent on these coping mechanisms that the thought of releasing them feels dangerous, even though they're keeping us from the abundant life He promises.
The Danger of Familiar Dysfunction
Consider the Israelites in Egypt. Yes, they were in slavery and bondage, but they became familiar with it. They knew the menu. It wasn't ideal, but they knew what to expect.
Sometimes we stay in broken patterns simply because we've learned how to survive there.
We become so comfortable with our bondage that change feels more threatening than staying stuck. We don't know who we'd be without that habit. We don't know what we look like healed. And that's terrifying. We're more comfortable with familiar dysfunction than unfamiliar freedom.
The Weight of Trying Again
Perhaps the biggest barrier to change is the fear of failing again. We've tried before. We've made resolutions, set goals, declared this time would be different. And when we fell short, it revealed something we didn't want to face about ourselves.
So we stop fully trying. Because a half-hearted effort hurts less than full-hearted failure. We protect ourselves from disappointment by never fully investing in the change we claim to want.
What God Wants to Form, Not Just Fix
Here's a crucial distinction: there are things we want God to fix that He actually wants to form in us. We pray for deliverance—for God to remove us from difficult situations. But God often wants to use those very situations for our development. We want out of the struggle; He wants to redeem it through His strength.
When growth feels slow, we assume it's not working. But actually, it's doing exactly what it's supposed to do.
The Practice of Fasting
Hebrews 12:1 calls us to "strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up." This isn't about adding more to our already overwhelming to-do lists. It's about taking an honest look at what has our heart.
Fasting is one powerful way to identify and address the "less than" areas of our lives. It's not about twisting God's arm or earning His favor. Fasting doesn't change God—it changes us. It's simply saying, "I am done letting my appetites run my life."
And our appetites aren't just about food. We have appetites for attention, validation, comfort, and noise. Fasting exposes what actually controls our hearts.
What Are You Carrying Into the New Year?
Many of us aren't just stepping into 2026—we're dragging 2025 (and earlier years) with us. We're carrying resentment, the quiet whisper that says, "I've done everything right, and my life is still harder than people who don't even try."
Or maybe it's exhaustion. We've baptized our burnout and called it faithfulness. Underneath, there's a quiet belief that God can handle the universe, but He can't handle it on our schedule. So we keep running on fumes.
Perhaps it's unhealed grief—we've learned how to survive without someone or something, but we never learned how to live again. We show up, we smile when people ask how we're doing, but something that should have been holy was never buried, just stored.
Or maybe it's those quiet habits—the things that don't look particularly destructive but have slowly taken control. The glass of wine that used to help us unwind but now determines when the night is over. The scrolling that keeps us from being present with people in the room.
The Promise of True Fasting
Isaiah 58 describes what happens when we fast with the right heart: chains are loosened, burdens are untangled, and the heavens open. Fasting doesn't bring God closer to us—it reveals how close He already is.
True fasting leads to freedom. Addiction patterns break. Relationships heal. We hear His voice more clearly. We feel more secure in His love.
Deciding Into the Life God Designed
You don't drift into the life God designed for you. You decide into it. The New Testament word "metanoia" means to change how we think, to change our mind, to turn and go a different direction.
Most of us don't stay the same because we don't want to change. We stay the same because we've learned how to survive. But God isn't inviting us to survive—He's inviting us to fully live.
This isn't about having a better January. It's about having a better trajectory. It's about becoming who He's called us to be. It's about finally experiencing what being a new creation means: the old has passed away, behold, all things become new.
There's nothing easy about fasting. There's nothing easy about change. But He is present, willing, and capable of walking you into becoming the person you were destined to be.
The question isn't about His faithfulness—it's about our willingness to participate. Will we take the steps, do the work, and trust Him through the process?
What if this could be the year you look back and say, "God did something monumental in me. The changes lasted. I tried and failed before, but I've seen His faithfulness now"?
The invitation is before you. Not compulsory. Not mandated. Just offered with open hands and a loving heart. Will you respond?
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