Okay guys, this 2025 business is hitting me hard. Yesterday marked a quarter century since I woke up in my bed and realized we all weren’t doomed. Although I had a pretty good idea that Y2K wasn’t going to be the end of us, all the propaganda surrounding the year 2000 proved a lot for an impressionable 13-year-old.

Perhaps an even bigger slap in the face is that if you do the math, 2025 is TWENTY YEARS after 2005 (aka my high school graduation year). It has now been two full decades since I walked across the Spokane Arena stage as a fresh Mead High School graduate.

Ready or not, 2025 is here!

News flash: While I am still very much a Mead High School graduate, I am most definitely not “fresh” anymore.

So, basically, the theme that is prevalent to me as a new year begins is that I am old.

But believe it or not, that is fine with me!

You see, I usually feel a lot of pressure at the beginning of the year. New Year’s resolutions, goals, and the desire to thrive all get into my head. However, as we begin 2025, I don’t seem to be balancing that weight on my shoulders this time around.

Perhaps I am just losing my ambition and drive. However, I like to think that the real reason is that I feel set up for success in 2025. I took a big leap in my career last year and I feel really good with where I am at. Our family is in a solid spot and some promising developments should hit early this month. A lot of opportunities for us to help others and ourselves from a faith-perspective await over the next 52 weeks. So, sorry not sorry, but I didn’t spend Tuesday night, a holiday I find depressing, wallowing in the dumps.

Of course by saying all this, I know I am setting myself up for a year that is anything but successful. Oh well, just trying to be honest. Even if 2025 falls short of my expectations and turns out to be the worst year ever, at least I am well-equipped to handle it. With a supportive wife, loyal friends, and Jesus walking by my side, I will handle surprises the best I can. And like what happened to a man I respected greatly at the end of 2024, terrible surprises do happen.

But again, I am optimistic and excited for 2025. For one, I didn’t spend yesterday vomiting into a toilet like I did on New Year’s Day in 2024. Even though I know that a year is a marathon, not a sprint—and, like last year, even a bad start to a year can’t sabotage the ensuing 364 days (and vice versa)—I am hopeful.

And I hope you are too. Have a blessed 2025. Don’t Blink.