2025 may be the new year, but 2024 was the year of new for our family. New defined every season. Every month. New found its way into every crevice of our lives like sand after a day at the beach. New identities. New schedules. New routines. New duties. New environments. New experiences. New friends, family, church, language—pretty much new everything.
And where there’s new, there’s inevitably…
Transition.
Christina transitioned from being a teacher. I transitioned from being a student by graduating from Seminary. We transitioned from a duo to a trio (Thanks, Asher!). We transitioned to roughly half a dozen living spaces. Transition, transition, transition.
And where there’s transition, there are inevitably…
Questions.
Same is familiar. We know what to do with same. New, however, confronts you with questions. New throws you into a dingy, dimly-lit interrogation room, causing you to fumble over your words whether you know the answers or not. Questions begin to bombard you, and there’s no luxury of the right to remain silent.
When we no longer have metrics to measure our success as we did in the school system, do we still feel valuable and find our worth?
When a third human now dictates how our day goes, can we handle the constant self-sacrifice and self-denial?
When it’s Christmas Day and we know there won’t be grandmas and grandpas watching Asher open his first Christmas present, will we still smile and find joy in the holidays?
When there are new anxieties, losses, struggles, aches, pains, arguments, political leaders, personal identities, questions… how do you stay grounded? How do you remain joyful? When there’s so much new, how does your sense of peace remain the same?
The answer lies in the One who is consistent yesterday, today, and tomorrow—the One who stands still when shadows shift.
When facing new, we constantly seek this idol and that idol to handle it. And what happens? It never works. Not one single time. It always fails eventually—worse yet, it always betrays eventually. Meanwhile, our same, consistently good and gracious Father is standing with arms wide open through it all, ever-present and waiting for the prodigals to return. He’s the only one who carries you home unscathed every single time. He always takes you in—better yet, he always blesses.
In fact, he makes you new.
If anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! 2 Cor 5:17
He whispers secrets through his Word to be heard by those he has renewed:
You’re valuable beyond measure.
You’re worth my own precious blood.
As you care for others, first take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.
Find your emotion not in who is absent, but in who is present. I am Immanuel—God with us. I am the One who enters your world, then promises to never leave you nor forsake you.
This month our pastor repeated this point multiple times: A Christian doesn’t so much pray for their circumstances to change, but for the courage to face changing circumstances with confidence. And that courage, well, it’s something God loves to give.
When you’re grounded in God’s promises like that, you can rejoice when new comes your way.
And as great as that joy is, it’s only the beginning. It’s but a taste. A glimpse. The tip of the iceberg. There’s so much more to come.
Behold, I am making all things new! Rev 21:5
Perhaps new isn’t so bad after all.
Missionary Micah Otto
Manila, Philippines
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