"Write the struggle. Skip the resolution. Leave it hanging." As a writer and editor, I’ve heard this storytelling advice often, and it continues to resonate with me in different ways. Sometimes, I am reassured by this; other times, it maddens me.
Even identifying the struggle at times can feel impossible. It often feels less like a clear story and more like a murky swirl of emotions and thoughts — hard to untangle, let alone articulate. And yes, this is even for someone who processes thoughts best through written word.
I remember a season a few years ago when my mind felt particularly overloaded. I tried stepping back and doing only what seemed essential, hoping for clarity.
Instead, I found myself facing a series of challenges that blocked any chance of rest and renewal: external pressures, overwhelming distractions and the constant pull of responsibilities. What I thought would be a time of rest turned into an unraveling, marked by frustration and uncertainty.
In a moment of clarity during my devotional time with God, I realized that sometimes the only way forward is through. The process isn’t always neat or easy. It often feels like inside-out work — unpacking and reworking the deeper things in my heart and mind, even when it seems overwhelming. It wasn’t about resolving it all, but it was about moving forward in faith and trusting that God was at work in the mess.
One morning, God woke me early — 5:55 a.m. to be exact. His nudge was unmistakable: "Open your Bible."
Despite my resolve that week to keep devotional time "offline," in a hard copy Bible, I opened the Bible app on my phone. The passage waiting for me was Rom. 12, a chapter that has always been an anchor in my life:
"Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is — His good, pleasing and perfect will."
Be transformed by the renewing of your mind. I sat with these words for a long while, mulling over the message that felt like both an invitation and a challenge. Renewal isn’t tidy or comfortable. That season — and many more since — was filled with pleading prayers, moments of confession and letting go of things I couldn’t control. It felt more like dismantling than rebuilding.
Yet, as I reread those words in Romans, I sensed God reminding me that transformation doesn’t require my perfection — only my willingness to surrender. It was about choosing to surrender the mess and trust that renewal could still come, even in the midst of the chaos. Renewal comes from Him, even and especially in the messiness.
Renewal isn’t a one-time event; it’s a daily, even moment-by-moment choice to trust God to do the work I cannot do on my own. It’s about stepping into each day with faith that He is shaping me for His purposes.
Phil. 4:8–9 offers familiar words that highlight God’s “how” of renewal that He wants to see in our lives: “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me — put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.”
As we enter into a new year, I admit that I don’t have all the answers. I’m learning to let go of the pressure to resolve everything and instead embrace the ongoing process of transformation.
No matter where you find yourself — believing, doubting or somewhere in between — renewal is an invitation to think forward and think upward. This is an opportunity to open ourselves to the change and growth God wants to bring into our lives.
As we move forward in faith in 2025, would you join me in praying for the ongoing process of heart renewal? Let’s walk into the new year with open hearts trusting that God’s faithfulness will guide us every step of the way.
