Today is the final day of 2025. It is hard to believe how quickly this year has gone by, and yet it is over. It feels like just yesterday we were stepping into January with fresh calendars and quiet hopes, and now here we are, standing at the final page.

As I look back on the year, I remember days full of you and others that were emotionally heavy. And many of the days were ordinary. The New Testament author James tells us that our lives are like a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes (James 4:14). That truth isn’t meant to make us anxious, but to make us attentive. It invites us to notice God’s presence in the middle of our days, not just at the milestones.

There were moments this year when God’s faithfulness was evident, and moments when I had to lean heavily on faith. There were prayers answered quickly and others that are still waiting. Through it all, God has been kind even when life was not.

And now, as one year ends and another begins, I find myself both grateful and hopeful. Grateful for what God has done, what He has taught, and how He has carried me, my family, and my Church. Hopeful because the same God who was faithful in 2025 will be faithful in 2026.

So tonight, we close the book on the year. Tomorrow, by God’s grace, we turn the page. And whatever the new year holds, we step into it trusting the One who holds our time.

That’s a wrap. Thanks be to God.

Most people set goals for a new year. Some are big and public; others are quiet promises made only to themselves.

Here’s what I’ve noticed: few people include others in their resolutions. Goals often focus on personal growth, such as exercising, losing weight, reading more, praying more, or reading the Bible. Rarely do we commit to helping someone else grow in their faith. Even fewer choose to invest in others’ success.

As followers of Jesus, perhaps a key question to ask as we enter a new year is this: Who are you taking with you? Whose life will be better because you were part of it?

I love to read, but time constraints have reduced the number of books I read each year. Now I also consume podcasts, blog posts, videos, and other articles alongside the books I read.

Still, over the last few years, I have developed techniques to digest 6-12 books a year without much struggle.

First, I have a few books that are structured to read one chapter a week. I have read Mark Moore’s Core 52 and Quest 52. This year, he is releasing Wisdom 52, based on Proverbs. A man named James Merritt also has several books with this format. This coming year, I will be reading the one on Proverbs and also one on the Psalms. These require 15 to 30 minutes a week, and at the end of the year, two more books are completed.

Second, I have a few books that I read a chapter a month. This is really simple: buy a book with a number of chapters divisible by twelve. You can read a 24-chapter theology book simply by reading half of a chapter a week. I pick up one or two of these and finish them by the end of the year.

Third, I select a few audiobooks to listen to on longer drives or when doing certain activities alone. On an eight-hour drive to see my mother, I usually listen to almost half a book. Do this a few times a year, and you’ll have added another 3-6 books to feed your mind.

Finally, I get involved in personal discipleship or a small group. These groups force me to read a chapter a week so that I will be ready for discussion at the next meeting. That leads to another 2-3 books a year.

I am always amazed at the end of the year when I look at the completed reading list and see a dozen or more books. All of them were completed with minimal effort.

If you were to use just one of these, by this time next year, you will have read at least one book to help you know God better. And I believe that is time well spent.

Over the next few days, people will gather to celebrate Christmas with their families, in-laws, and friends. I pray that your holiday season is blessed beyond imagination.

The one thought I carry into the holidays is a variation on a statement I heard years ago. I have given it a Christmas twist, but it still applies.

“People will forget what gift you gave them, but they will remember how you made them feel.”

The most significant thing you can do is to make people feel seen and valued. Putting your phone down, leaning in to listen, asking questions, and being fully present are the greatest gifts you can give anyone.

When this season is over, I hope that people will remember you being in their lives with great joy.

I have often thought about Mary’s mom and dad.

What were they like? Did they believe their daughter? Were they happy for her and Joseph? Were they doting grandparents who ask no questions?

The Bible tells us nothing about Mary’s family background. We have no descriptions of her mother and father to help us draw conclusions about their thinking. We can assume that Mary was raised in a home built on faith. They trained Mary in the teachings of the Old Testament and attempted to live it out, since Mary is so willing to serve God when she is called upon. Any speculation about their life is built on nothing but pure imagination.

Yet this silence itself speaks volumes about God’s story. He chose an ordinary girl from an ordinary family to carry out His most extraordinary plan. Mary’s parents weren’t kings, priests, or prophets whose names needed to be recorded for posterity. They were faithful people who raised their daughter to know and trust God.

Perhaps that’s precisely the point. The Christmas story reminds us that God works through everyday families. He uses parents who teach their children Scripture around the dinner table, who model faithfulness in small moments, who pray ordinary prayers. Mary’s willingness to say “let it be to me according to your word” didn’t spring from nowhere. It was cultivated in a home where faith mattered.

This Christmas, as we celebrate the birth of Jesus, maybe we should pause to thank God for the grandparents and parents whose names we’ll never know. Those faithful men and women who quietly shaped the people God used to change the world. They remind us that our most important legacy isn’t fame or recognition, but raising the next generation to recognize God’s voice when He calls.

I am trying to learn from my mistakes. Each one brings a new life lesson about me, others, and God.

But I do not have to make every mistake. I do not have to live it to learn it.

At the end of the year, it is worth reflecting on all that has happened to you in the previous twelve months. It is also good to assess others’ lives and learn from them.

Experience may be the best teacher, but it doesn’t always have to be your experience.

This Sunday, our Church will hold its annual candlelight program. Yes, we do it on Sunday morning, not on Christmas Eve. A few years ago, I decided, with the leadership of the Church, that we would worship on Sunday morning and celebrate Christmas then, no matter when the twenty-fifth fell.

Our Church building has eight windows in the auditorium, and I have boards and cardboard to black them out for the morning. Sure, it seems like a hassle, but it is one of my favorite programs of the year. The lights will be dim, and almost everything will be illuminated by candlelight. At the end, people will hold up a personal candle as we sing Silent Night. And every year, it stirs emotions deep inside me.

Why do we do it all by candlelight? The goal is to underline the coming of Jesus as the light of the world. The Apostle John in the introduction to his gospel says, “In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:4-5)

Jesus comes as a light into a dark world, and more specifically, the darkness in our lives, and the darkness cannot defeat it. At Christmas, the light is small as he arrives as a baby, but by Easter, the light will shine like the sunrise.  

So for Christmas, we light candles and shine a tiny light. It is symbolic. It is emotional. It is all about Jesus.

What is your first question when it comes to giving gifts, especially at Christmas?

For most of us, the answer to that question is “How much should we spend?”

I want to suggest a better question. What if you asked, “What would be most meaningful to that person?”

Like many people, I have a job that pays me adequately, and I can buy whatever I desire. The issue of money rarely enters my mind when I receive a gift. My mind runs to the motivation behind that gift. Where was their heart?

Did they give this out of obligation? Did they give me the cheapest gift they thought they could get away with? Alternatively, I might think, “Wow, they really know me,” or “This was so thoughtful.”

Over the years, I have received inexpensive gifts that have meant the world to me, and I have also received pricey ones that have made me sad.

The old expression, “It’s the thought that counts,” is partially true. The thought and the heart behind a gift are the real treasure.

This month is the twelfth Christmas as a pastor at the Church I currently serve. That means I have walked through twelve months of Christmas sermons, children’s programs, and candlelight gatherings.

The children who once sang in their sweet little voices have now grown into adults. The young adults who were attending when I came have married, and their kids are performing this year. Several older adults who once carried candles are now unable to participate because of the struggles that come with age. Still others who once arrived with their white hair and new Christmas sweater have gone on to be with Jesus.

Times change. People in the Church change. And the one constant has been the old, old story about a Savior who comes from heaven to be with his people. As I look back on these twelve Christmases, I’m grateful for the privilege of walking with a community that still believes the manger matters. A community that keeps showing up, year after year, to celebrate a Savior who has shown us that hope exists, peace is possible, and love is not out of reach.

I hope this year to see you at Church for Christmas, or that you will join your faith community to celebrate the coming of the King. It is still a story you need to hear.

What is your first instinct about the people you encounter?

Do you see them as friends or as foes?

Do you assume they want the best for you, or do you brace yourself for them to take advantage of you?

Do you believe they genuinely care, or do you quietly wonder if your presence is just an inconvenience to them?

Often, the story we tell ourselves isn’t rooted in the person standing in front of us at all. Instead, it is shaped by what we’ve experienced. Sometimes we judge someone based on a past wound, betrayal, or disappointment. Without realizing it, we project yesterday’s pain onto other people.

How would your life, and mine, be different if we approached others looking for the best and not the worst?

Perhaps there is a whole group of people with whom you might find connection, mutual encouragement, and even friendship. When you tell yourself a different story, it not only changes how you see others but also how you experience life.