New Year’s Hope

I’ve never really been a New Year’s resolution person.

They’ve always felt a little cliché to me, and honestly, a little heavy. Like we’re supposed to wake up on January 1st as a totally new version of ourselves with a perfectly mapped-out plan and unlimited motivation. That kind of pressure has never worked well for me. Life doesn’t reset that cleanly, and growth doesn’t happen on a calendar.

What does work for me is setting goals that feel supportive instead of demanding. Goals I can move toward on my own timeline. Goals that leave room for hard days, grace, and real life. So instead of resolutions this year, I’m choosing hopes.

They feel softer. They feel doable. And they feel more honest.

My first hope is continuing to raise kind kids.

Not kids who are perfect or always well-behaved or never mess up. Kids who are learning how to be good humans. I want to keep modeling empathy, patience, and accountability—even on the days I don’t get it right myself. I hope they grow up feeling safe to be themselves, brave enough to try new things, and confident enough to be gentle with others. I want kindness to be something that feels natural to them, not forced. If they learn how to care about people, to apologize when needed, and to stand up for what’s right, that will be my biggest accomplishment.

Another big hope for this year is prioritizing our marriage.

We’re still newlyweds, and I want to protect that season. Life moves fast, especially with kids, work, and full schedules, and it’s easy to let your relationship slip into survival mode. This year, I hope we keep choosing each other on purpose. Making time even when it’s inconvenient. Talking things through instead of brushing them aside. Laughing more. Being teammates. Growing together instead of just side by side. I want our marriage to feel like a place of rest, not another thing on the to-do list.

A big personal hope for me this year is continuing to grow my faith and walk closely with Jesus.

Not in a loud way—just in a steady, everyday one. A personal peaceful way. I want to trust more and surrender. To truly let go and let God. I’m learning that I don’t have to force doors open or panic when things feel uncertain. My hope is to let Him lead, to trust His timing, and to believe that the doors He opens are meant for me—and the ones He closes are for my protection, even when I don’t understand it. More than anything, I want to live in His light and His mercy every day, letting that shape how I love, how I show up, and how I move through the hard moments.

And maybe the biggest hope of all is choosing peacefulness and ease for our family.

That looks like slowing down where we can. Saying no when something doesn’t align instead of overcommitting out of guilt. Creating rhythms that feel grounding instead of chaotic. I want our home to feel calm, safe, and steady. A place where the kids can unwind and where we can all breathe a little easier. Less rushing, less noise, and more presence. More intentional yeses. More margin. More space for joy to show up naturally.

I don’t need this year to be about fixing myself or proving anything. I don’t need a total overhaul. I just want to keep moving forward in a way that feels aligned with the life we’re building.

So this year, I’m choosing hope over pressure. Growth over guilt. Guided by God. And goals that leave room for grace.

Here’s to a year that feels gentle, intentional, and full of faith.