What This Year Taught Me: Three Lessons I Didn’t Want but Needed (2025)

As I sit here on this rainy November morning, reflecting on the past year, I originally planned to write a review of 2025 (think more of a journal entry). However, and possibly more honestly, writing about the lessons I learned might end up being more for me than anything else, but I hope that somewhere in these words you’ll find something that connects with your own experience.

I tend to get reflective around this time of year. There is something about the holidays, the slower pace, the sense of another chapter closing. It feels a little like the end of a VeggieTales episode, when the computer starts singing, “And so what we have learned applies to our lives today, God has a lot to say in His book.” This time of year lends itself to the moment I find myself asking, Okay, so what did I actually learn?

A lot of great things happened this year. There were many moments full of joy, love, and genuine happiness. I laughed, connected, and grew with so many people. But when I think back on 2025, it’s often the hard lessons that stay with me the longest. I don’t say that negatively, just honestly. Those are the things that have a way of sticking, shaping, and refining who we are, and I would like to share three lessons with you.

Lesson 1: Take no one for granted

“Teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12)

I want to talk about two sides of this idea.

First, the funerals.

This past year, really, the last almost two years, has been heavy. I’ve had to say goodbye to more friends than I ever expected at this stage of life and ministry. Whether I’m the one officiating the funeral or just quietly sitting in the back, it doesn’t get easier. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve wanted to text someone who isn’t here anymore, or ask their family how they’re doing, simply because of what that person meant to my life. Those moments continue to sneak up on me. The instinct to reach out, and then the realization that I can’t. It’s a strange kind of ache.

Second, the goodbyes at church.

I’ve also had to say goodbye to people who have moved on from our church. As I’ve written before ( click here to read: Our Church, This Year) and as I remind our church family often, change is part of the life of a church. People come, people go, and sometimes both happen faster than we’d like. I had a conversation recently with a member who was struggling with someone’s departure. I gently reminded him that we can miss people deeply and still trust that God is leading them somewhere else. At the end of the day, we have to pray that they find the right place to worship and serve in the future. That doesn’t make the goodbye less real, but it does give it purpose.

Lesson 2: Change is still hard

At some point this year, I found myself reflecting on the lesson of what it really means for a pastor to walk a church through change. Ministry is hard even on the good days, and the longer I do this, the more I’m convinced that part of shepherding well is recognizing the emotional and spiritual weight that change brings.

I don’t think we pause often enough to acknowledge that weight on the congregation, or the pastor…I know I haven’t.

There have been so many transitions over the last year (new directions, new ministries, new challenges), and I’ve had to remind myself that God doesn’t ask me to pretend that change is easy. He simply calls me to lead faithfully through it. Sometimes faithfulness looks like steady, patient steps when everything feels unsettled. Other times, it’s a resounding “no” that goes against the flow.

Change is still a hard lesson.

Training people. Leading people. Being let down. Letting others down. Moving in a direction that not everyone agrees with. Teaching subjects that stretch people emotionally and spiritually. Carrying responsibilities that don’t always come with applause or understanding.

All of this is what comes with growth, both mine and the church’s.

“Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong. Let all that you do be done in love.” (1 Corinthians 16:13-14)

Lesson 3: The Need to Stop (Rest)

Transparently, it’s hard for me to stop. (Even as I write that, I can hear my wife say “Amen!”)

It feels like I’m always going, running, planning, thinking, trying to stay ahead of whatever is coming next. And while being driven isn’t inherently a bad thing, this year has made it painfully clear that I needed to slow down and rest.

Not in the casual “take a day off” kind of way, but in the your body is done and you don’t get a vote anymore kind of way.

I had three medical procedures this year. Three times where I was literally forced to stop, at least for a little while. No ministry, no momentum, no pretending I was fine. And as frustrating as that was, it also exposed something I don’t always want to admit: I often equate value with output. When I see a gap or a need, my instinct is to step in and fix it. I don’t always know what to do other than keep working.

But this year taught me something different.

I have people, really good people, who are capable and supportive around me. People who love our church and love the work. People who have been trained well and want to serve. I have to continue to give them responsibility, not because I was weak, but because that’s how the church is supposed to function in the first place.

Pastor Mark’s Conclusion:

Again, a lot of great things happened in 2025. I have so many happy moments filled with joy, love, and genuine laughter. But when I look back on this year, I think the things that will stay with me the longest are the lessons I tried to learn along the way.

My prayer is that as you look back on your own year, you’ll take a moment to thank God not only for the good parts, but also for the hard ones: the trials, the stretching, the moments that forced you to grow. Should we be thankful for the good times? Absolutely. But if you’re anything like me, it’s the hard-won lessons that tend to shape us the most.

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials (or a lesson) of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.” (James 1:2–3)

I pray that we take the lessons of 2025, every one of them, into 2026 with humility, gratitude, and a little more wisdom than we had before.