New Year, New Me…Not Yet
Annabelle Laine, guest blogger - December 29, 2025
Dear reader, I pray this message meets you exactly where you are. May you receive these words with an open heart and an unguarded spirit. As we step into a new year, I pray your faith would be both surrendered and strengthened — not pressured by the world or rushed by expectations, but anchored in God’s perfect plan and timing. Amen.
Scripture
Matthew 6:33–34 “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.”
Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Every year after Christmas, we are met with the same familiar phrase: “New Year, New Me.” Statistically, this usually means joining a gym, eating cleaner, setting ambitious goals, saying yes to more invitations, and striving to be better versions of ourselves.
But how often do we stop to ask: does this align with the path and plan God has for us?
This year, as I reflected on the coming of the new year, I felt something unexpected — hesitation. A quiet resistance in my spirit. Almost like I wasn’t ready for a “new me.” There was pressure to improve, to perform, to evolve… but I had to ask myself honestly: Is this pressure coming from my flesh, or from my faith?
There’s a raw and deeply emotional song by Maverick City Worship called “YET.” It speaks to growth that isn’t rushed, healing that isn’t instant, and faith that continues even when answers feel far away.
The lyrics say:
“I know I’ve come so far and got so far to go, And with these brand new scars and broken heart, it’s hard to really know… If there’s a reason and if I’ll ever see it, But I wanna believe it… so don’t give up on me yet.”
Those words feel like a prayer many of us carry quietly into the new year.
After a year filled with trials, transitions, unanswered prayers, and unexpected losses, it can feel like we’re trudging step by step through thick mud — just trying to make it to midnight when the ball drops. And yet, even in that exhaustion, there’s truth in the reminder: you’ve come so far, and you’ve got so far to go.
If you’re reading this and quietly thinking, “Wow… this sounds like me,” I just want you to know — you’re not alone. There’s nothing wrong with you for feeling tired, hesitant, or unsure as the calendar turns. You don’t need to have everything figured out. You don’t need a five-year plan or a perfectly worded goal list.
Sometimes faith looks less like bold declarations and more like whispering, “God, I’m still here.” And that is enough.
The world tells us January 1st is a deadline — a starting gun. That if we didn’t transform by now, we’re behind. But God does not operate on the world’s timeline.
Scripture reminds us to “not worry about tomorrow.” Our flesh whispers, “I’ll do better next year.” But God gently invites us to focus on today — to seek Him first, trusting that everything else will follow in its proper time.
Growth in God is not measured by how quickly we change, but by how deeply we trust.
This year doesn’t require a brand-new version of you. It requires a surrendered one.
A heart willing to say:
● Lord, I trust Your timing.
● Lord, I believe You’re still working — even when I can’t see it.
● Lord, I choose faith over pressure.
Jeremiah 29:11 was never a promise of instant fulfillment — it was a declaration of God’s faithfulness over time. His plans unfold with intention, not haste.
If you’re entering this year feeling unfinished, unsure, or unready — you’re not late. You’re right on time.
So maybe this year isn’t about “New Year, New Me.”
Maybe it’s about “New Year, Still Becoming.”
Still trusting. Still healing. Still growing. Still believing.
And still confidently saying:
Lord, I know I’ve come so far… and I trust You with what’s still ahead.
Not yet doesn’t mean never. It means God is still working.
“God, I release the pressure I’ve been carrying into this new year. I give You my timelines, my expectations, and my unfinished places. Help me trust Your plan even when I don’t understand the process. Strengthen my faith where my flesh feels weak. And remind me that You are not done with me — not yet. Amen.”