Process.
As this new year begins, I’ve noticed I’m not drawn to resolutions or bold declarations about what I’m going to accomplish. Frankly, boldness doesn’t guarantee those things becoming a reality.
Instead, I keep coming back to one word.
Process.
Not because it sounds impressive.
Not because it promises quick results.
But because it’s honest about where I am—and what I sense the Lord inviting me into.
Late in 2025, I was exposed to a simple line from Nick Saban that has stayed with me ever since:
“Outcomes are a distraction.”
That sentence has been clarifying for me.
Outcomes have a way of pulling our attention away from the very work that actually produces them. They tempt us to measure too early, rush growth, or abandon good process because results aren’t immediately visible. When outcomes become the focus, faithfulness often becomes secondary.
Process asks something different.
It asks for presence.
It asks for patience.
It asks for trust.
More and more, I’m realizing that the work God is doing in me doesn’t need to be rushed. It needs to be tended. Process pushes me toward something better and greater—not by shortcut, but by formation. It fits me. And it fits the season I’m in.
So this year, here’s what I’m personally seeking to do.
I want to be more intentional about identifying the right elements in my life. Not everything deserves the same level of attention. Some things need to be refined. Some things need to be released so the work God is doing can actually breathe.
I want to integrate the process into everyday life, not just spiritual moments. I’m learning that formation doesn’t only happen when things are quiet or clear—it happens in how I respond, how I listen, and how I show up on ordinary days.
I want to devote myself to the work of the process, even when it feels slow or unseen. Especially then. Because growth that lasts is rarely loud, and progress isn’t always obvious in the moment.
I want to trust the process to produce, rather than constantly measuring it. I’m learning that control short-circuits formation. Surrender creates space. What I cling to too tightly often limits what God wants to shape in me.
Scripture gives language to this posture. In Psalm 37, we’re told that the Lord establishes the steps of those who delight in Him.
That delight is more than emotion or enthusiasm. It’s a trust—a confidence and a peace that is found in choosing to be fully engaged and humbly consumed by God and His presence. It’s the settled assurance that you are walking with Him, not racing ahead of Him.
I’ve been thinking about that a lot.
Maybe part of what it means for God to establish our steps is that He reveals the processes He wants His people to engage in—not just the outcomes He wants them to reach. Processes that show us the way toward the flourishing life He intended, even when the path isn’t perfectly clear.
That doesn’t mean we won’t stumble.
It doesn’t mean we’ll always get it right.
But Psalm 37 reminds us that we will be sustained—held by the Lord—as we trust Him within the process.
That’s what I’m committing myself to this year.
Not a faster pace.
Not a cleaner outcome.
But a more faithful posture.
And if you’re honest, there may be a process God is already inviting you into—one that doesn’t need to be rushed, but trusted.
Grace and peace as the year—and the process—unfolds.



