I lived on Nicollet Ave. in a city that's been ablaze with rage, but I was too tiny to know anything but the security of arms cradling me. Minneapolis, MN was simply home. My birthplace. My nativity.

This morning a candle wafts rich vanilla into my chilly basement and my Bible is open to the book of Jeremiah. Jeremiah's intensity seems fitting for the fractures dividing our country. "There is no cure for my grief," he writes. "My heart breaks for what I see and hear" (Jeremiah 8:18, The Voice).

Maybe that's what you feel too. The heaviness. The defeat. The grief.

As I read Jeremiah 9:23-24, I wonder what breakthrough might happen if we spent less time drawing conclusions and more time drawing close to God. Less time taking sides and more time by His side.

Links mentioned:

1. To get a short, doable tip in your inbox every week to help you get to know your neighbors, sign up HERE.

2. Read the written version of this episode HERE.

I'm typically the one playing it safe. I minimize risk through research and reluctance. Control what I can and avoid the rest.

Perhaps it won't surprise you that this is the first time in four days I've left my neighborhood. But the interstate is stunning. I'm heading into the sun, which accentuates the ice. I would have missed this ethereal wonderland if I didn't brave the roads—just like I can miss the adventure God calls me to if I insist on playing it safe.

Links mentioned:

1. To get a short, doable tip in your inbox every week to help you get to know your neighbors, sign up HERE.

2. Read the written version of this episode HERE.

To springboard off Christine Hoover's "back-door friend," I've turned items from around my house into archetypes to help us better understand friendship. Which one best describes the type of friend you are?

Links mentioned:

1. Messy Beautiful Friendships by Christine Hoover.

2. Sometimes we keep our friendship shallow–by accident. Discover if you are making any of these ten common mistakes by grabbing the free download HERE. You'll also get a powerful secret to help you deepen your friendships.

3. To get a short, doable tip in your inbox every week to help you get to know your neighbors, sign up HERE.

4. Read the written version of this episode HERE.

Maybe January feels like a hinge month. Like what happens the rest of the year rests on what you do with this one month.

You feel all kinds of pressure to pick the right New Year's resolutions, the perfect word of the year, the habits that will stack up to lifestyle change. You write and rewrite your measurable goals, your keep and let-go list, your personal mission statement.

Perhaps you're fed up with merely existing. You long for depth, clarity, connection. And January, you determine, is the tone-setter for the remaining months. The mark of your maximum braveness. The hinge-point for 2026.

Or it might be time to step into something that has been a long time coming. You feel more inadequate than excited, here on the precipice of a brand new season.

First, a confession: I'm here with you–both hopeful for this year and overthinking how to best embrace January. I'm doing the thing I've been preparing years for, but it feels lonelier than I expected. I'm writing more slowly than ever. Looking forward to actual up-comings–a finished manuscript, rounds of editing, choosing a cover, sharing with you what I've been co-creating with God–is entirely different than anticipating the possibility of it all.

Second, an invitation: step back into ancient, soon-to-be Israel with me as we simplify how to transition well. I find uncanny relevance in the book of Joshua. It's a significant season in Israel's history as they leave the wilderness and step into God's promise. Inside Joshua's story are powerful yet simple tools to take with us into 2026.

Links mentioned:

1. Gifts and Gratitudes journal from Ann Voskamp.

2. To help you begin a year-round gratitude practice, sign up HERE to get a gratitude story in your inbox each week.

3. To get a short, doable tip in your inbox every week to help you get to know your neighbors, sign up HERE.

4. Read the written version of this episode HERE.

Okay, Lord, I get it. My stubborn insistence that I never need help is the opposite of koinonia.

Koinonia is a lighter way to live.

An easier way to breathe.

It takes the shape of rest–right in the middle of writing a book. Looks like a yes to relationship-building, which is wired in all of us, by God's design.

Every time you link arms, share a burden, trust a friend with your confession, unite in prayer, accept help, or make space around your table, a little light gets in under your shell. Your got-to-keep it together begins to erode. Your self-defeating assumptions are deflated. Your insecurities are dethroned.

But koinonia with God is where it begins. There's no sweeter fellowship than with God's son. No conversation more life-transforming than with the Word of God. No bond more true than you can have between God and you.

Links mentioned:

1. Find the Instagram carousel fromWholeHearted Enneagram here for encouragement for the rest of the Enneagram numbers.

2. To get a short, doable tip in your inbox every week to help you get to know your neighbors, sign up HERE.

3. Read the written version of this episode HERE.

When we read primarily to check a box, it's only a matter of time before we check out. If we read out of guilt or obligation, we approach the Word already bored. If we expect the words to go over our head, we'll forget God promises us wisdom if we'll only ask (James 1:5). And if we give up before we get started, we'll never give the Word a chance to become our lifeline in crisis, our won't-miss rhythm, our reassurance of God's with-ness.

Links mentioned:

1. For shorter, guided plans, check out the ones on YouVersion.
2. Mary Demuth's 90-day Bible reading challenge.
3. Ann Voskamp's Sacred Prayer journal.
4. To get a short, doable tip in your inbox every week to help you get to know your neighbors, sign up HERE.
5. Read the written version of this episode HERE.

What if we could make the new year better than the last? If we could guarantee that God's goodness–up close and unmissable–would overshadow the trials? If we could see, threaded through the seams of our stories, the through-line that makes everything make sense?

Links mentioned:

1. Stuff I'd Only Tell God by Jennifer Dukes Lee.
2. Songs I Play on Repeat playlist (in the resource library).
3. Apple and Spotify playlists of my top 25 songs from '25 (also in the library).
4. Names of God phone wallpaper (free).
5. Word-of-the-year ideas & monthly reflection sheets to amplify your word-of-the-year growth in 2026 (get both HERE).
6. Read more about nevertheless gratitude HERE.
7. To get a short, doable tip in your inbox every week to help you get to know your neighbors, sign up HERE.
8. Read the written version of this episode HERE.

For every weary soul needing a bit of light, a scrap of real hope, a simple Christmas prayer. For every taxed mama and bustling grandma. Every newlywed and fresh divorcee. Every grieving heart. Every family scrambling to make Christmas happen.

Wherever these words find you, and whatever heaviness fills the room, I pray for gritty, overflowing hope. I pray that the tender nearness of Jesus meets you in this moment. That His peace supersedes the pressure you're feeling right now.

When you're emptied of all you can do on your own, when you've used up all the words, when your edges fray and your adrenaline runs out–there's room for more of God. Only when we're at the end of ourselves do we open in uninhibited welcome. And God? He always makes good on His word:

Move your heart closer and closer to God, and he will come even closer to you.

James 4:8, The Passion Translation

Today, let's stand on this promise together. Because when we really need real hope, we can rely on the unwavering Word of God.

Links mentioned:

1. To get a short, doable tip in your inbox every week to help you get to know your neighbors, sign up HERE.
2. Read the written version of this episode HERE.