The year God asked me to do things differently - inviting me into the desert

I love the start of a new year; it is a great opportunity to buy a lovely new journal (stationery addicts will understand), make a new list of resolutions (list people will glow at the thought) and feel hopeful about the new life and new body that awaits me down the new year line…

It was an invitation to pursue intimacy with him, to learn to be with him without an agenda

My list is usually something like a Christian version of Bridget Jones’ Diary:

Do the Bible in a year (in an actual year).

Spend an hour with the Lord every day and two hours on Sundays. 

Exercise six days a week (with one day off for Sabbath).

My family meals will include wholesome food and wholesome talk (particularly proud of that one!).

My house will be clean and neat and I will welcome others in for Bible study around my kitchen table. (I will not ever need to frantically clean and tidy like a maniac every time anyone arrives.)

I will fast at least one day a week and will not drink alcohol or caffeine, eat sugar or chocolate all year.

I will lose 10kg (I will even enjoy the new year weigh in, as I anticipate the weight dropping off me by the end of January).

Because I am so holy (!) I then usually have a theme (or a theme song) for my year like ‘Lay it all down’ (Will Reagan) and often a Bible verse to hold onto as well. One year it was “You crown the year with your bounty, and your carts overflow” (Psalm 65:11). The whole ‘new year, new you’ preparation experience is joyful, especially as I write it in my best handwriting, with an ink pen, in my new journal.

Drawn into the desert

I started 2025 in exactly the same way and yet, uncomfortably, I had this deep inner conviction that God wanted me to do things differently. My resolutions would usually end up being a bit like a firework display – big and shiny for a short burst with people ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ at my resolve and brilliance and then there would be nothing! But at the beginning of 2025 I could hear him calling me to something else, something deeper and more significant. His call was really an invitation to deliberately walk into the desert with him. Bridget Jones would have turned the invitation down without a second thought because it was not pretty and shiny, it was not sexy and it didn’t promise fun and laughter; in fact, it promised hardship and humility. It was not very tempting!

Despite all my humanness, I surprised myself and said “Yes”. Almost before the word was off my lips God gave me this verse: “Therefore, I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her” (Hosea 2:14).

It was an ancient call that I knew my body and soul were longing for, even though I was a little afraid of what it might mean practically. It was an invitation to pursue intimacy with him, to learn to be with him without an agenda or a list of requests and, shock horror, some of the time would feel unproductive! As a task-focused person, just sitting in God’s presence without achieving anything is very hard for me.  

God was not inviting me to another list of unattainable tasks, but he was inviting me to rest my soul

God made it possible for me to embark on this journey with others; not just the many, many men and women in the Bible and through history who had been formed in the wilderness, but also with a small group of women who chose to do the same thing. To be honest, we did not get our act together until mid-January, as it took us a while to work out how to do this.

We stole ideas from other traditions and for a 90-day period (up to Easter) we stripped our lives back to pursue God. Some of us fasted, some of us practised kneeling, some of us gave up all unnecessary shopping, some of us gave up alcohol, sugar, treats and social media. We were all learning to flex our ‘no’ muscles to the temptations of the world so that we could give God our ‘yes’. We all created space for a daily ‘holy hour’, where we proactively read scripture, learned to ‘sit’ with it and listen as well as speak to God in prayer. As a small group we met on Zoom once a week for accountability and support. 

A difficult, but transforming, adventure

If I am really honest, it was very hard and I broke all my rules at least once during the 90 days. There were some days where my holy hour was only a couple of holy-ish minutes. But there were many, many bright moments of hearing his voice and meeting him in unexpected ways and places, and it has resulted in a gentle and profound personal transformation.

Matthew 11:28-30 says: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

One of the bright moments for me was that I learned that part of the reason to withdraw and approach the Lord intentionally is to get rest, to be relieved of my burdens and to be refreshed. God was not inviting me to another list of unattainable tasks, but he was inviting me to rest my soul. Why have I never put on my new year list: Rest more; Do less; Have fun; Be refreshed; Get rid of burdens?

Journeying into the desert is difficult. It is hard to say no to the loud call of social media, chocolate, wine and other people’s expectations of you, but the long-term fruit is a rich and well-rested soul. I feel better equipped to cope with life’s challenges, I am definitely a nicer person to live with and I believe I have gone some way to becoming more like the person I was designed to be.

As we start 2026 perhaps you might also consider pursuing ‘rest for your soul’ as a new year goal. It may not be easy, but it is an adventure with the Lord that you will never regret embarking on.