Every Year Is a New Opportunity to Make New Memories

Entering a New Season with Adult Kids, Open Hands, and a Little Help from Our Friends

There’s something about the turn of a new year that exposes just how much life keeps changing—whether we feel ready for it or not. This year’s post-holiday haze wasn’t just about too much sugar or a long winter break. It was about realizing, again, that the way things used to work doesn’t always work anymore.

Christmas has a way of revealing that truth faster than almost any other day.

For years, traditions carried us. Same houses. Same times. Same rhythms. They anchored us when our kids were small and life felt full but predictable. But somewhere along the way—when kids grow up, get married, bring new families into the picture, or start building traditions of their own—we discover that the old map doesn’t quite get us where we want to go anymore.

And that realization can stir up grief, frustration, and anxiety… or it can invite us into something new.

When Traditions Have to Bend

This Christmas looked different for Jamie and Heather—trying to make schedules work across church responsibilities, in-laws, adult children, and expectations that no one had ever said out loud but everyone still felt.

For both, the question underneath was the same: How do we hold on to what matters without demanding that everything stay the same?

One moment of wisdom landed right on time when an older couple told Heather, “Every year is a new opportunity to make new memories.”

That sentence reframed everything.

Because it’s true—next year will be different too. New relationships. New responsibilities. New possibilities. And eventually, grandchildren, distance, careers that move people across the country, or life circumstances we can’t control.

If we insist that things must look the way they always have, we’ll spend these seasons resentful instead of present.

Learning Never Actually Stops

Somewhere along the way, many of us assumed adulthood would mean we’d finally arrive. That we’d figure things out, settle into routines, and stop having to learn so much.

But the truth is, we just keep learning and changing—over and over again.

Launching kids. Navigating marriage in new seasons. Redefining family rhythms. Adjusting expectations. Letting go of control. Choosing flexibility. Holding traditions with open hands instead of clenched fists.

Formation is not a destination but a lifelong journey.

The Spiritual Gift of Doing Life Together

As Jamie and Heather look to the New Year, they had a simple realization: some things are hard to do alone.

Cleaning out a closet. Tackling an overwhelming pantry. Finishing the tasks we’ve been avoiding for months.

Enter body doubling—the idea that having another person present (even if they’re not actively helping) can provide enough accountability and encouragement to get unstuck.

But there’s something deeper going on here than a productivity hack.

Scripture tells us to bear one another’s burdens, and we often reserve that language for moments of crisis. But what if burden-bearing also includes the small, ordinary things that quietly weigh on us? The undone tasks. The clutter. The mental load. The loneliness that creeps in as life gets quieter and more independent.

Doing life together doesn’t have to look like a formal group or scheduled program. Sometimes it looks like saying,
“I don’t want to do this alone. Would you come be with me while I do it?”

When Everything Is Spiritual

One of the most freeing reminders from this conversation was this:
If you follow Jesus, everything in your life is spiritual.

There’s no neutral space.

Cleaning a closet can be an act of service. Organizing a pantry can be an offering of love to your family. Spending time with a friend while doing hard or boring things can be a way of choosing joy, community, and humility.

When we submit all of life to Jesus—not just the obvious holy moments—we discover that even the ordinary can be transformed.

Stepping Into 2026 Together

So maybe the invitation for this year isn’t to add more goals or pressure ourselves into becoming someone new. Maybe it’s simpler (and harder) than that.

Maybe it’s to enter this next season with open hands.
To let traditions evolve without resentment.
To ask for help without shame.
To show up for one another in practical, tangible ways.
To lift burdens together—big and small.

Because life is still full. It’s still meaningful. It’s still sacred.
And it’s better when we don’t try to carry it alone.