Word of the year

even when we're not sure

Hi friend. This is the time of December when I prayerfully discern my word for the year to come. I’ve done this for the past several years, and I find the practice helps to clarify and direct me as I move through the seasons, but this year I’m at a bit of a standstill. This year’s word was Springtime – a word I wanted desperately – and to be honest, it’s hard for me to find the fruit of it, at least in the places I would have expected or hoped.

Still, I know that so much about Spring happens under the surface until it finally bursts forth and maybe it’s the cold early part of Spring that God intended when He gave me the word to begin with. And there’s been blooming too - some truly beautiful things did happen this year - but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit disappointed and deflated in the end on several important fronts.

So, when next year’s word came to me a few weeks back, I found I lacked the excitement I usually bring to the process of confirmation¹, when I begin to see the word in pictures and references all around me. I still found those confirmations this year as I have in years past, but I guess on this day, it’s hard for me to believe or trust in the word’s goodness and promise. I feel a bit let down. And I wonder if you can relate to that feeling as we reach the threshold of a new year. Hard to believe in a word, a process, a plan, or things working for our good² somehow in a way we can’t see yet. Things feel more random than that these days, more chaotic, less divinely organized for our eventual good. I see less providence and provision (or maybe that’s just INFJ enneagram 4 me having a rainy day).³

There was a time years ago when God gave me pictures while in the savasana portion of a yoga class each week, a succession of pictures of me in a large body of deep water – struggling, floating, swimming, sinking, or occasionally being rescued by a nearby boat – and in each of these pictures, I longed to step my foot on solid ground. It took weeks of yoga classes before the Lord would let me step on the ground in that vision but finally, He did, and there I found a lighthouse. In successive pictures each week, I would plant seeds and drop water from my wet pockets onto them in hopes of growth, and I made several attempts to go up the stairs of the lighthouse too, but something always stopped me from turning a corner. Lest I believe that these pictures were the product of my active imagination, I never could make myself climb past a certain point on the stairs, and this was frustrating to say the least. That was many years ago.

And strangely, the picture returns to me as this year I feel that my word is lighthouse, not for climbing but for embodying, like, I am to become a lighthouse of sorts this year, and my feelings around this are…. mixed. Because I want the movement of Springtime, but somehow, I’m being called toward stability, self-knowledge and grounding in faith. I want to feel the freedom of a spring breeze but instead I’m being called toward the lashing of wind and waves. I want to see light and warmth opening colorful blooms all around me, but now it seems that some of that light at least is supposed to come from me. And this feels like work but also, like possibility. I never could make it up those stairs of the lighthouse in that vision, but I can make space for God who is Light to live in me for the benefit of His people, maybe for such a time as this. And maybe I’ll see some things come to my shores this year in a way I could never have expected or make happen on my own power. The power of water and wind are not to be denied, after all, and maybe the ice will melt or the winds will shift in such a way that some of the boats that have been a long way off will finally come home to harbor. I hope so.

And so, friend, I guess I’m wondering about your thoughts for a word for this year ahead – the kind of year we really can’t predict on seemingly any front. Can we pray and prepare for such a year without specificity? How do we step over this particular threshold without knowing anything really about what’s on the other side of the door?⁴

The answer, as it always is, I’m afraid, is one step at a time. Let’s pray that God will give us illumination, wisdom and clarity for each step here in the dark, and if it’s His will, to help us to be that Light for one another, too. And who knows, maybe Springtime will creep in in some ways that we don't see yet - I truly hope this for you and me and ours from a God of surprises who really does make birds loudly chirp at our windows even at the end of December. And, friend, as you determine your prayers or words or practices for the year ahead, I do hope you’ll share them with me in the comments.

Be assured of my prayers for you and yours, friend. Blessings on your 2025, whatever lies on the other side of the door.

Raised Catholic rewind:

Raised Catholic episode 12: Deep Water - transcript with link to episode

Raised Catholic episode 157: Word of the Year - Springtime - transcript with link to episode

“Trust” - an allegory written by me in 2017

What I’m reading/watching/listening to/recommending:

Instagram account: @liveitallbetter

Book: Between Two Kingdoms, by Suleika Jaouad

Song: My Lighthouse by Rend Collective

Song: The Voyage by Amanda Cook

Prayer:

May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be always with you.

May the sun shine warm you always, ‘til we meet again. ~Irish Blessing

1. I speak about my process of finding and confirming a word in a few places, check out this week’s recommendations for links to some of those or search my website for Word of the Year pieces.

2. Romans 8:28

3. always possible

4. As I ask the question here on my laptop on December 30, I hear the loud chirping of birds out of my window boldly insisting on springtime even now. Also, the sun is coming out on what was a pretty dreary day. And okay Lord, I get it. :)