As you conclude your year

Over a decade ago, I did a small thing that, in retrospect, was life-changing.

I took time to reflect on the year just past and set goals for the year to come.

Back then, Michael Hyatt was the author and podcaster I listened to the most.

Late one year, he offered "Best Year Ever," a video-based annual review and goal-setting course. It was designed to be completed over the last five days of the year.

Online courses were pretty new in 2014. I had never bought one. I remember feeling nervous as I clicked "Buy." Was this course going to be worth the price?

Reader, it was. (Sadly, it no longer exists. There is a different version of it now.)

It started with questions about the past year. What had been accomplished? It moved on to teaching a goal-setting process. Finally, it led me to set and write down a reasonable number of goals for the coming year.

I started the next year knowing what I wanted to do in it. That felt different, in a good way. I didn't have vague resolutions. I had written goals.

Did I achieve all my goals that year? Absolutely not. Did the process increase my capacity to make change in myself and in the world around me? It absolutely did.

Next year, I did it again. That second year, I could reflect on the goals I had set the year before. Some I had achieved. Others, I had not. I could ask myself what made the difference. I was developing a rhythm.

For over a decade, I have done some variety of this process every year. It helped me create a life I am deeply grateful to live. It helped me imagine that more was possible. It helped me to grow into the person God made me to be.

These days, my life is so much easier now than it was then. My fabulous children have become fabulous adults. My husband who used to work 24 hour shifts as a firefighter each week has retired. Most nights, he makes dinner. I have a full time job doing work I love. None of this was true when I started this process.

Life has seasons. My seasons changed. I am ten years older than I was ten years ago. A decade brings change, all on its own.

But my life also changed because every year, for over a decade, I took time to reflect and set goals every year.

I thought about my marriage, and how to make it better.

I thought about my life as a parent, and what my kids needed from me.

I thought about my work life, and what I wanted to see in it in the year to come.

Plainsong Farm exists today in part because I set goals in 2015, 2016, and 2017. (But even more, it exists because other people brought those goals to life with me!)

After Plainsong existed, and I became its Executive Director, I realized there was still a lot I didn't understand about goal-setting.

I knew how to set a goal and throw myself at it until it was done. But I didn't really know how to plan to achieve a goal in a sustainable way. I would put way too much on my list, then feel compelled to achieve it, even at the cost of my well-being.

Education on the internet had helped me before. I turned to it again. By now, there were more options.

I took and used Sarra Cannon's HB90 course, goal-setting for creative entrepreneurs. I took more than one Planning Day with Lisa Woodruff of Organize365, goal-setting focused on home and family life.

These courses taught me that planning includes understanding the time commitments you already have. They also taught me that goal-setting includes giving yourself grace when you fail. After all, everyone is human.

Finally, this year, I realized I knew enough about goal-setting and planning to make my own course. I haven't done it, but I'm thinking about it, because there are still gaps in what I think I need. This time, I don't see anything that is going to fill them.

The goal-setting and planning processes I have learned start with the person doing the planning. I want a goal-setting and planning process that starts with what God is calling me to do, even when it scares me.

The goal-setting and planning processes I have learned start with dates set by people – the year, the quarter. I want a goal-setting and planning process that follows the ecological seasons and includes the liturgical year.

The goal-setting and planning processes I have learned are ones you do alone. I want a community of support and accountability. Mostly, I want support – specifically, support to stay realistic.

I trust God to do the impossible with and through me. But I need reminders that the impossible is God's work, not mine.

God gave me (and you) 24 hours in the day. God gave me (and you) a body that needs rest.

There are billions of people on this planet. You and I can do some of God's impossible work... and then we need trust God with the rest.

How I plan my life is something I can control. So as this year turns, I am trying something new.

As December began, I started planning for winter.

Not a 90 day financial quarter. Winter.

Winter, for me, began on December 1 and will end February 28. Not because that's how the equinox works, but because that's how my brain works.

I believe that winter will end, just as it always has. By March I will be looking for crocuses and daffodils.

By the time the seasons change, I want to see change for myself too.

So I envisioned what I wanted to see in my life by the time winter was done. I set goals that aligned with that vision. I identified projects and practices that would support me achieving those goals.

This process is bringing me more energy and joy, clarity and hope.

Energy, joy, clarity and hope are gifts from God meant for everyone.

As your year turns, I want to encourage you to take time to reflect on your life. The year of our Lord 2025 is coming to an end. The year of our Lord 2026 is beginning.

Where will 2026 take us? Only God knows. And because we are humans and God gave us free will, it's possible that not even God knows yet.

Much of what will unfold in the coming year is beyond your capacity to control.

Some of what unfolds is fully yours to choose.

You can still set goals and make plans – for winter, for the first 90 days, for whatever span of time feels right to you. If you are in a season where one moment or hour at a time is all you can manage, I understand. I've been there.

These days of turning from one year to the next are here, a gift waiting to be unwrapped.

May you find the clarity you need to begin again.