This Year is His
January 4, 2026
Dr. Paul Cannings
As the years pass—both in life and in marriage—I have come to realize, though I once resisted the thought, that New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day can easily feel like just another night and another day. Yet those moments are quickly reframed when I hear of someone involved in a tragic accident, a helicopter crash, or a pastor who passed away just days before the New Year. Those realities remind me of what God says: “A time to give birth and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted” (Ecclesiastes 3:2).
Being alive is God’s decision—so I am blessed. Seeing my family walk through the door at the beginning of a new year, I am blessed. What immediately comes to mind is this truth: “Worthy are You, our Lord and our God, to receive glory and honor and power; for You created all things, and because of Your will they existed, and were created” (Revelation 4:11). Being in a new year is not accidental; it is because of His will. And the purpose of that will is to bring Him glory and honor.
Perhaps this is why Paul says, “Whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father” (Colossians 3:17). James echoes this perspective when he writes: “Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, and spend a year there and engage in business and make a profit’ Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away. Instead, you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and also do this or that’” (James 4:13–15, NASU).
Getting to the New Year was all God. Making it through this year will still be all God. So why not live according to His will—so that each day we bring Him glory and honor (John 15:1–10)?
Years ago, I made it a point to attend my sons’ games because my dad was only able to come to one of my practices growing up. I remember how exciting it was just to see him there. One evening, while watching one of my son’s football games, the offensive unit was on the field, and my son was sitting on the bench. I happened to look over and caught his eyes locked on me. I gave him a thumbs-up to encourage him. In that moment, I remembered how I felt seeing my dad at my practice.
After the game, I waited as he took what felt like forever to come out of the locker room. I had a list of things to do, but before I could say anything, he asked, “Dad, how do you think I played tonight?” On another occasion, I called him while he was rushing to his own son’s game and told him to be careful. His response was, “I need to be there so my son knows I’m there. I remember how you did that for me.”
There were coaches shouting orders, bands playing, tackles to make, plays to execute, cheerleaders cheering—but what mattered most was this: Dad is here.
God is always present.
So, the question remains—who will you live for this year?
(Colossians 3:1–4; Luke 14:26–28; Isaiah 46:10)