
It’s the last Monday of 2025. As you look back at the year, what was your biggest success? Your biggest challenge?
And as you look ahead to 2026—what are you most excited for? What goal are you setting? What do you most want to change as you step into a new year?
When I sit with those questions, what rises to the surface for me is mostly centered around God. How much my life has changed. How much my understanding of who He is has deepened. And how, heading into 2026, I’m choosing—daily—to trust and surrender my will to Him.
His plan has always been better than mine. I just spent a long time gripping my own version of control so tightly that I couldn’t see it clearly.
This year stretched me in ways that felt familiar—like a hard training cycle that exposes weaknesses you didn’t know were there. It humbled me. It asked me to let go of expectations, timelines, and outcomes I thought I needed. There were moments that felt uncertain, uncomfortable, even painful—but looking back now, I can see the refining. I can see where God was working long before I understood what He was doing.
Just like in the gym, growth didn’t come from comfort. It came from showing up when it was hard. From learning patience. From trusting the process even when the results weren’t immediate.
There’s a lot I don’t have figured out as this year closes. But what I do have is peace where there used to be striving. Trust where there used to be fear. And faith that feels less like a safety net and more like a foundation.
As someone who believes deeply in showing up, doing the work, and staying disciplined—this year reminded me that surrender doesn’t mean inaction. It means obedience. It means training my heart the same way I train my body: consistently, imperfectly, and with intention. Some seasons are about pushing the weight. Others are about backing off, rebuilding, and learning when to release.
Not every PR comes from adding more. Sometimes it comes from letting go of what’s holding you back.
So as 2026 approaches, my goal isn’t more hustle or tighter control. It’s deeper trust. Open hands. A willingness to follow—even when the path doesn’t look like what I imagined.
If you’re closing out this year feeling behind, uncertain, or tired—know this: God is not finished. Not with your story. Not with your healing. Not with your growth.
Sometimes the greatest progress doesn’t look like achievement at all. Sometimes it looks like surrender.
And that’s where I’m choosing to step into the new year—faith over fear, trust over control, and hope anchored in something far bigger than me.
Lord, thank You for meeting me in the stretching and the stillness. Thank You for the lessons I didn’t ask for but needed.
As this year closes, I release what I was never meant to carry. I surrender my plans, my timelines, and my need for control.
Teach me to trust You more deeply. To walk in obedience even when the path is unclear. To rest in the truth that You are already at work ahead of me.
As I step into this new year, may my hands stay open, my heart stay soft, and my faith stay anchored in You.
Amen.
Just like our faith, fitness isn’t built overnight—it’s built through small, faithful steps. Consistency matters more than perfection, and showing up matters more than having it all figured out.
If this year didn’t go the way you planned—if you fell off, missed workouts, lost momentum, or feel behind—hear this: nothing is wasted. There is no shame in starting again. Strength is built in the return.
As we step into a new year, my invitation is simple: take the next step. Come train your body with intention and your heart with trust. Let this be the year you stop doing it alone.
We’re here. The doors are open. And we’d love to walk this journey with you.
Have an amazing week. Keep showing up. And we’ll see you in the gym. 💪🙏
Whitney & Nick