“Let us examine our ways and test them, and let us return to the Lord.” — Lamentations 3:40

I spent all of 2025 reading books on prayer, lament, grief and suffering…I finished the year by reading Lamentations in one sitting.

Lamentations is short, but stunningly structured. It was written after the catastrophic loss of Jerusalem, soaked in grief, yet built with precision because each verse advances through the Hebrew alphabet (A-B-C-D-etc). This intentionality quietly declares that when everything falls apart, God is still a God of order.

As 2025 closes and 2026 begins, many of us are longing for that same movement—from chaos toward clarity, from overload toward focusing on matters, from scattered schedules toward intentional ones.

Each January, I practice a simple year-end review introduced to me by a friend: I scan my calendar, meetings, and weekly tasks from the year behind and ask two basic questions:
Was this life draining? Was this life giving?

Over the years, I have found a consistent pattern. The most draining entries are often the institutional scut work of life and ministry—sometimes necessary, but dangerously overwhelming when left unchecked. This practice has become a guardrail, reminding me to keep routine maintenance items minimal and essential.

The moments that restore life were almost never scheduled. They were relational, spontaneous, and simply being with people in the moment.

Looking back sharpens the future. It reveals not just what filled our time, but what deserves our focus.

So as you close 2025 and turn toward 2026:
What gave you life this year? What drained it?