Ditching the Grind: My Gentle Goals for a Grace-Filled 2026

It’s the first full week of January 2026. Raise your hand if everywhere you look, people are shouting about bold New Year’s resolutions: Hustle hard! Embrace the grind! Track measurable wins! Become UNRECOGNIZABLE!

Sound exhausting? Yeah, me too. If you’re anything like me, you might be craving something a little less grind and a lot more gentle. So, let’s talk about it.

Yep, I must be getting older because I now catch myself saying things like, “Wow, this year just flew by” or “Where did December go?” So much has happened in our world over the past twelve months, and chances are 2026 will up the ante with even more drama.

I used to spend hours a day glued to politics and world news—endless videos and podcasts of politicians trading zingers and attacks—until I just couldn’t anymore. I had to step away.

For the past decade, the news has felt downright toxic. Layer on top of that the hustle-and-grind culture of the business world, only to be amplified by algorithms that keep feeding us more of whatever we last clicked. Now more than ever, we have to guard what we let in, even for a second. All that noise? It’s exactly the kind of weight I need to lay aside.

This month, I turn 59. I’m not sure how that happened. Twelve months from now, I’ll be stepping into a new decade: my sixties. Breathe, Hope.

There—I said it out loud.

It actually doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. But I want to meet that decade as someone who’s ready: ready to care for myself and the ones I love, and ready to serve where and how God calls me.

So I’m making 2026 a year of gentle preparation—less rigid, hyped-up goals and more light, focused, open intentions. Hebrews 12:1 has been the verse I’m camped out on this season:

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.”

Rather than chasing more, I’m chasing peace and preparation. Here’s how God is gently guiding me to lay aside weights in three key areas.

Comfort and Strength in My Body

I’ve known for years that I need to lose some weight and build strength and mobility, but the scale has always discouraged me more than it motivated me. This year, my gentle focus is on feeling more comfortable and confident as I move—stewarding this temple God gave me so I can serve with energy and joy. It’s not about hitting targets. It’s about consistent, grace-filled choices: nourishing food that honors Him, movement that feels like worship (a quiet walk in His creation or gentle stretches that quiet my soul), and rest that truly restores. I want to greet my sixties feeling lighter in spirit and stronger in body, ready for whatever adventures or ministries lie ahead.

Deeper Freedom in Work and Calling

For years I’ve longed to make content creation my full-time vocation instead of squeezing it in around other jobs. I want to build community by being vulnerable—sharing the real, honest journey of simplifying life as we prepare for this later season. Titus 2 has been heavy on my heart: older women living reverently, teaching what is good, encouraging younger ones. I want my days free enough to pour into this—to listen, mentor, and point anyone who will listen toward Jesus.

Simplicity and Space at Home

As Americans, we’re often consumed by our stuff—organizing, inventorying, cleaning, storing, and rearranging on endless repeat. Turns out, our possessions own us. My husband and I are no exception. Our basement and garage overflow with construction supplies, tools, eBay inventory, animal care items… you name it, we’ve probably got two.

It’s chaos that steals my peace and limits our flexibility to go where God calls. I dream of scaling it all down—creating calm and breathing room so we’re unburdened and available. Decluttering isn’t just practical; it’s spiritual—letting go of excess to make space for His presence and purposes.

This won’t happen in a Marie Kondo weekend. When your garage holds decades of marriage and a construction career, there’s a lot to sort through. But by the end of 2026, I want this journey well underway. I’ll be sharing it here on Substack (and maybe some YouTube videos too): the messes, the small victories, the hard lessons in detachment and trust.

I need to share it because I need the accountability. Alone, it’s far too easy to get overwhelmed and quit—and we can’t afford that. As I lay aside these weights in 2026, I’m trusting God to lead the way—not with rigid checklists, but with His gentle rhythm of grace.

If any of this resonates, what’s one weight you’re ready to release this year? Drop it in the comments—I’d love to hear.

Subscribe if you want to follow along (yes, even the messy garage reveals), and let’s encourage each other toward lighter, more purposeful lives.

Here’s to running the race with endurance—and a whole lot of peace. We’re not alone in this. Who’s with me?