This admittance might make me sound old, but we didn't stay up to midnight last night to welcome the start of 2026. Instead, we watched college football (Miami upset Ohio State!), then headed to bed. Even if you don't see the ball in Times Square drop, it's still a new year when you wake up.
I already like when I get to flip a calendar page to a new month, so starting a whole new calendar scratches a deep itch. It's a clean slate. A reboot. A fresh start. I'm ready to organize my pantry, clean my closet, toss expired spices, and throw out old socks.
At the same time, I've lived plenty long enough to know that I'm still me. I don't subscribe to the near-year-new-you premise, as if somehow we reach January 1 and become our true authentic selves, just 100% better in every possible way.
What is new, though, is a promise that I rely on daily: God's mercies are new every morning. Daily mercies. Daily bread. The daily promise that I don't need to fear because the Lord never will leave me nor forsake me.
God with us — Emmanuel — isn't just a concept to sing about in Christmas songs, though I deeply appreciate those reminders. Emmanuel means that God is with us on December 25, and God is with us today, and God is with us every day after.
God is with me when I'm ugly crying, when I'm irritable, when I'm a disappointment, when I'm ashamed. God is with me when tears sting my eyes, when I feel overlooked, when I don't know the next best step to take. God is with me when I'm teaching a class, speaking on a stage, and writing a blog post. God is with me when I'm so full of joy my heart can't contain it, when I'm light with laughter, when all is well.
Emmanuel, God who became flesh, the God who has redeemed me, this Jesus who is the King of Kings — He is called Emmanuel, God with us.
God with us today when the calendar is bright and fresh with the promise of a new year ahead, and He's with us every day after.
