The past six years have carried me through a valley I never would have chosen. Grief has a way of reshaping the landscape of our lives—quietly, deeply, and forever. There were days I simply asked God for enough strength to breathe, enough faith to take the next step, and enough light to find my way through the darkness.
And He was faithful.
As I prayed about a word for the year ahead, one kept returning to my heart—RISE. Not as a declaration of victory, and not as a denial of pain, but as a gentle invitation from God Himself.
“Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.” — Isaiah 60:1
To RISE does not mean we forget where we’ve been. It means we stand because God has lifted us. It means choosing hope again after heartbreak, joy again after sorrow, and purpose again after loss. Rising doesn’t erase the valley—it bears witness that God met us there.
My desire this year is not to race ahead, but to rise slowly, humbly, and honestly—leaning on God’s strength and allowing His light to shine through the cracks left behind. If my journey can encourage even one heart to believe that joy is still possible after deep sorrow, then every step will be worth it.
Wherever you find yourself today—still walking the valley or beginning to lift your eyes toward the hills—may we rise together, not in our own power, but in His.
Tauren Wells song Hills and Valleys is a great reminder that God is just as present in the valley as He is on the mountaintop—and that rising begins with trusting Him in both.
Closing Prayer Heavenly Father, you are the God who meets us in the valley and walks with us every step of the way. Thank You for Your faithfulness in the dark places and for the quiet strength You provide when we have none of our own.
As we rise into this new season, help us do so humbly—anchored in Your truth, guided by Your Spirit, and clothed in Your grace. Heal what still aches. Restore what has been broken. And let Your light shine through every scar as a testimony of Your goodness.
Teach us to RISE not in our own power, but in Yours. May our lives gently point others to hope, reminding them that joy is still possible, peace can be found again, and You are never finished with us yet. We place this year, and every step ahead, into Your loving hands. Amen.