I’m going to go on record in saying that 2025 has been one of my favorite years of my adult life. It’s not that it was an easy year, far from it. As with every year, this one had its share of sadness and challenges and disappointments. But looking back, the theme of 2025 is that it was a year our family chose the bigger life, stepping out of our comfort zones and into new adventures and commitments and communities. Sitting here at the tail end of 2025, life feels so much fuller and more purposeful than it did just twelve months ago. Of course, that growth has been accompanied by plenty of learning opportunities; thank you for indulging me today as I reflect on this year’s many big lessons and takeaways. Per tradition, I’m adding color to this annual What I Learned post with some family photos taken by the incredibly talented Shay Wills earlier this fall.
Back in January, I would not have predicted that this would be such an expansive year. We were easing our way out of the postpartum period, but I still had a very needy infant who struggled to sleep and insisted on being held at all times. Nico’s fussiness made it difficult to accomplish basic household tasks, let alone engage in any social activities. During those necessarily solitary months I learned that even the most profound introverts among us (raises hand) are in need of social interaction. It was a lonely time that also brought clarity and unexpected joy as I leaned into sacrificial motherhood and learned to find fulfillment within the temporary confines of my role.
Our world opened up in the summer months as Nico gained some independence. Our summer adventures—including a road trip to California—were challenging but doable, reminders that the big events were still possible for us now that our three children had grown to four. Perhaps our most memorable event of the year was an overnight stay at Kalahari water park, where I overcame my fear of taking my kids to a water park and learned that Charleston shares my own childhood love of water slides, that Kalinda is the most risk-averse of my children (a big surprise!), and that Nico is a total waterbug.
It was also during the summer that our family became members of the YMCA, where we discovered that this membership is absolutely worth the monthly fee. Our visits to the Y have been a luxury that the kids and I look forward to each day, especially now that Nico is able to attend (and enjoy) the nursery.
Our biggest stepping-out experience of the year took place this fall, when we joined a homeschooling co-op for the first time in six years of homeschooling. Since becoming part of a Classical Conversations group, we’ve learned the wonders of classical education and fallen in love with memory work. Through our participation in CC and in American Heritage Girls (which we also joined this fall), I’ve begun to recognize how thirsty we were for homeschooling community and how wonderful it is to parent alongside likeminded families. After a dry spell in my own friendships, I am relearning how to connect with other women and am grateful for the new relationships that are forming.
Our family took big steps in our church and faith life this year. Luke and I both had the opportunity to serve with Charleston’s 4th/5th-grade group (Luke as a summer camp counselor and me as a small group leader and large group teacher for midweek Discipleship this fall), and we’ve learned the challenges and rewards of working with this age group. On a more superficial level, my Wednesday nights with the 5th-grade girls have taught both Nico and me that he is (occasionally) capable of bedtime without Mama—a huge relief for us both!
This spring we followed God’s call to leave a church we loved to help plant another church across town. The process of saying yes to The Oaks Church was an exercise in seeking God’s will and discerning His path, and God’s guidance in this was a profound reminder of His presence and work in our family’s life. Since the church’s launch, I’ve learned so much about the mechanics of church planting and I’ve witnessed the awesome ways that God is moving here in Liberty Hill, Texas.
Our move to The Oaks has had some more personal lessons for me, too, specifically as I’ve gotten to witness Luke utilize his gifts as part of the weekly production team. In this, I have learned (not for the first time) of my husband’s amazing talents and his servant’s heart. For myself, I’ve learned humility through accepting that, for now at least, Luke’s contributions to our church are more necessary than my own, and the best way I can serve our church on Sunday mornings is to tend to my own children while Luke does the forward-facing work at the church campus.
This was my year of intentionally walking with the Good Shepherd and listening for His voice. I wish that there had been more learning on that front this year; instead, I have come to the end of the year feeling less confident than ever of my ability to clearly hear the voice of God. I remain strong in my faith, yet I have more questions than answers about discerning God’s work and His leading outside of the words offered in Scripture. I’m not frightened by these questions, though, because I sense that God is using my humble curiosity to draw me into deeper relationship with Him.
And speaking of deeper relationships, Luke and I have strengthened our marriage this year, thanks in large part to our commitment to consistently praying together every night. This is something we had done sporadically in the past, and this year we made it a nightly habit. This daily point of connection with each other and with God has fortified our marriage and helped us to stay on the same page in our parenting and our faith; I regret that we weren’t doing this before, and learned that this is pivotal in keeping Christ at the center of our relationship and our home.
My kids are always my greatest teachers, and I learned so much from and about and with them this year. Motherhood continues to be an exercise in trusting God with my kids’ outcomes and letting go of the things I can’t control—whether it’s their behavior, their relationships, their physical growth, their heartbreaks, or their character struggles. God is constantly showing me where I need to step in and assist and when I need to get out of their way; and it seems that as soon as I figure out the right balance, it changes!
We have been doing a lot more of our schooling as a whole family, which solidified for me that our family is at its homeschool-best when we can approach subjects together in this way. At the same time, I was reminded again and again that every child has a distinct learning style and pace of learning; I can’t take credit for all of their successes, nor can I blame myself when they struggle. When it comes to our foray into classical education, I have learned that music and walks are the key to tackling memory work, and also that I had greatly underestimated my children’s abilities to retain and apply new information (and how fun it would be for them—and me!—to commit new facts to memory)!
Throughout the year, Charleston taught me the joys and challenges of raising a preteen as he demonstrated responsibility (most notably when he cared for my in-laws’ chickens for a month to raise money for summer camp); committed to growing spiritually (in reading through the whole Bible this year and asking important and thoughtful questions about God and faith); modeled thoughtfulness and ingenuity and creativity; exuded strong Oldest Brother energy (which is great when he’s caring for Nico and challenging when he’s bossing the twins around); and flexed his ability to negotiate any situation (his favorite hobby is a tactic he calls “loopholing”). All of this has been an exercise for ME in navigating behavior with firmness and grace and a prioritizing of relationship over my own expectations.
I learned this year that Kali is desperate for connection and validation from Mama, that she needs lots of extra support in school, and that she lives for time with other girls. Through time with Sully, I learned that he is a math whiz (he taught himself multiplication), extremely competitive, and a fiercely independent learner, but that he’s still in need of lots of emotional hand-holding. Together, the twins continued to prove that the twin bond is strong and a delight to witness, even as they gain a little independence from me and from each other as they solidify their personalities. I’m learning to let go, but by bit. I watched them commit their lives to Christ in the spring, and their steady but curious faith has been inspiring; it’s also pushing me to grow in my own faith as I seek to guide them in their budding understanding of God and His Word.
As for Nico . . . this little guy has taught me patience, the art of multitasking, and the sheer wonder of watching a little one learn new words and take in the world and develop big milestones. He has taught our whole family how to work together in looking out for him (and each other), and that having a baby in the family is the absolute best. In fact, my four kids together taught me this year that a 10-year age gap is complicated and occasionally overwhelming, but also amazing in that I get to experience the joys of multiple ages/stages at once. I am learning (or trying to learn) to savor this time with my kids at this near-perfect stage without slipping into anticipatory sadness that it will be over soon.
Some of the weightiest lessons come through tragedy. Though our family did not experience first-hand tragedy this year, we watched many in our community suffer the devastating effects of a flood this past July. It was a reality check, reminding us that life as we know it could evaporate in an instant; since the summer, I have had a greater appreciation for our health and safety, and I have been praying for emotional and physical fortitude if the worst were to happen for us.
Charlie Kirk’s assassination was another tragedy that effected me deeply this year. It was a startling window into the hatred and potential for evil that exists in our world. In the aftermath of his murder, I witnessed a spiritual revival that I had not thought possible in our country, and I was reminded that God is always at work, even in the darkest moments. Sadly, I’ve also observed the subsequent discord in both the religious and political arenas. I do not have many takeaways from this experience, beyond an increased awareness of the enemy’s insidious tactics and an awakening to the spiritual battles that are being waged all around us.
2025 is an interesting time to be a writer or creator of any kind. Shifting algorithms, the rise of AI, and a proliferation of content could have a demoralizing effect if I were attempting to monetize my writing or gain huge audiences. Thankfully, those have never been motivating factors behind my blog, and these changes in the online landscape in recent months/years have only solidified the fact that my own personal growth is a primary driver in creating content for this space. (Knowing this made it easier to take a small step back in my writing this fall, though I am still working to accept that this is simply a change driven by shifting priorities and not some sort of failure.) At the same time, I have received more positive feedback than ever from all of you in the past year, and these kind messages have taught me that my words DO matter. I am grateful that God is using this gift of mine to reach others, and I will continue to trust His guidance as I keep plugging away at this pet project of mine.
While I’ve made (some) peace with the impact of technological advances in the world of online writing, I am struggling to accept its role in other parts of my life and in the world in general. The more online the world gets, the less comfortable I feel in the digital realm. I distrust almost everything I see or hear online, I’m frightened by the polarizing algorithms, I want nothing to do with chatbots or other forms of AI, and I am increasingly disillusioned with all social media. I am leaning into in-person relationships and attempting to shepherd my children along this countercultural analog path.
Mental health has been a lifelong struggle for me, and depression was part of my story this past winter and spring. Miraculously, the emotional fog has lifted in the latter half of this year. I cannot remember another instance of overcoming heavy depression without the aid of a counselor or antidepressants. I can’t explain the shift, and while I am holding my current emotional health lightly, I am praising the Lord for this newfound joy, clarity, and peace that literally surpasses my understanding.
Most of what I learned in 2025 was fairly cerebral, but there were some practical takeaways from the year, too. I started a Substack and am learning the ins and outs of the platform. I learned how to create a balloon arch, and that this is less expensive and more visually impressive than buying birthday balloons at the store; I’ll never go back. I learned that Wal-Mart is great for same-day photo printing, that Quince has excellent clothing at a reasonable price, that all non-moccasin baby shoes are a complete waste of time, that moving the mattress to the floor is an unfortunate but necessary part of cosleeping, that it’s always a good idea to go with the bigger bookcase, and that roasted carrots are nature’s candy.
I’ve been writing these annual What I Learned posts for more than a decade, and the exercise always leaves me in awe of what God has taught me over the course of twelve months, and also anxious that I’ve somehow missed something. Which is silly, because OF COURSE I’ve missed something. There is no way to capture a year’s worth of learning in a couple thousand words, nor are these posts meant to be a tidy bow on the package that is a year of emotional and spiritual growth. This is but one touchpoint on the road I am walking, gathering new lessons and insights and wisdom along the way.
Thank you, Lord God, for another year of life and of learning. To you be the glory.
Thank you, my dear readers, for following along with my reminiscences today. My hope is that I have inspired you to engage in some reflection as well: what were the lessons—big or small—that came your way in 2025? How are you different at the end of this year because of what God has taught or is teaching you? Is there anything you hoped to learn and didn’t? What surprised you the most? Take a few minutes to mull over those questions; you won’t regret it.
