Where do we go from here? 2026 is more of a mystery to me than previous years

New Year’s Day in Toledo, Ohio. Photo: Gerald Farinas.

I'm looking at the blank pages of a 2026 planner I’m planning to buy and realizing something profound. I have less idea of what the next year holds for me than ever before.

This feeling of walking toward a mystery is what makes 2025 feel so intensely transformative—more so, surprisingly, than 2005, which, looking back, was more of a setup than a true shift.

In 2005, the changes felt like a predictable next chapter. Like the start of a new job. They were major steps, yes, but they were steps on a path I had kind of foreseen. I was exchanging one known set of circumstances for another. There was comfort in that structure.

But 2025? It has been a year of true metamorphosis. My entire career has changed completely, and for the better, but the change has left me standing in a brand-new landscape.

I know I’m going through a new door, but I can’t see the corridor past the threshold. To what degree will this new direction define me, and to what destination is it taking me? The ambiguity is palpable.

Still, the mystery is laced with tangible good. Next year is already shaping up to be one of increased commitment and visibility in my community.

I'm looking forward to more intensive work with the Chicago Presbytery, including the incredible chance to serve as commissioner at the General Assembly in Milwaukee. And the invitation the Rev. Kristin Hutson and I received to speak at a conference about our work with neurodiversity in faith spaces feels like a validation of the path we've chosen. These are known bright spots, concrete professional and spiritual advancements.

I get to finish out my term as Rotary Club President including moving ahead with our district grant project. I’ll step down in June.

Perhaps the most important element of the year ahead is the opportunity to go back home more often to see my parents and my brother. They are reaching a certain age, and the time we have is becoming more precious. This opportunity for more frequent connection is a gift, and it weighs heavily, in the best way, on my planning for the coming year.

Yet, despite these known positives, the pall of mystery remains. I am walking through a door, and I feel split between two reactions: anxiety about the unknown depths of this change, or the confidence to simply walk forward and trust that the path will reveal itself.

I realize that true transformation isn't about stepping onto a new road with a clear map; it’s about accepting that the map doesn’t exist yet. Maybe the defining moment of 2025 isn't the change itself, but the dawning awareness that I am ready to embrace the mystery of what comes next.