It’s hard to believe that I’m already writing my year-end letter. I say this every year, which is why this annual ritual becomes all the more needed in considering what I miss in the relentless passing of time. This year I find myself thinking about how quickly our world seems to be changing amidst rising uncertainty and brokenness.
Like many of you, my mind turns to the wars raging around the world, the uncertainty of work due to the growing ubiquity of AI, unexpected changes in policy and governance norms, and devastating climate events. I find myself yearning for quick redemption, and with the beginning of every new year, the hope is that the next will bring renewal. We want to be a part of that renewal, solving problems, somehow contributing towards what makes this world a better place.
We want our work to be redemptive in nature. In that hope, we can speak of “redeeming” our industries, of being agents of redemption in our workplaces. The language is well-intentioned, but I’ve come to realize that when we use the word “redemptive” to describe our own work, we can obfuscate the wonder of the redemption.
Redemption is the unique promise of God, not the work of human beings.
In our yearning to make our world better, we forget that God has been at this work for millennia. We unwittingly position ourselves as the authors or agents of redemption. We take something that belongs uniquely to God and mistakenly place it in human hands, which is a weight we cannot hold. This is the whole reason for the incarnation and the ongoing work of the Spirit to apply what only God could accomplish. The question for you, for me, and for Goldenwood has never been “How do we go about redemptive work?” but rather “How do we become more attentive to our God who is always at work?” (cf. John 5:17)
In our hurried lives, this is what we so easily miss. God’s redemptive work operates on a different timeline than our urgent plans and anxious expectations. We measure time in months, quarters and years, in productivity metrics and strategic plans. But God moves in seasons we can’t always see and works through waiting we don’t understand. This is the same God who promised Abraham descendants like the stars and then waited twenty-five years to fulfill it. The same God who promised a Messiah and then waited centuries. The same God who works in us “according to his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began” (2 Tim 1:9).
Our participation in God’s redemptive work doesn’t begin with action but with discernment. We start with the slow, patient discipline of perceiving where the Spirit might be moving in our lives and in our corners of the world. Without this spiritual attentiveness, faith and work can easily devolve into a sanctimonious version of self-determination. Redemptive work isn’t about finding or aligning ourselves with the right idea or industry, the right organization or social cause. It’s about something more fundamental, more intimate: learning to trust the activity and pace of a God who keeps His promises in His time, not ours.
When we, as individuals, as organizations, slow down enough to align ourselves with that movement, we are invited into the privilege of participating in the redemptive work of God. Not because we made it so, but because we perceived an invitation to participate in something God uniquely has already been doing. God doesn’t call us to redemptive anything, because redemption is His work. He calls us to be patiently attentive to the One who is bringing about redemption in every space we inhabit (cf. Matt 17:5).
We so often over-estimate what we think we can do and dramatically underestimate the wonder of God’s redemptive presence and work in the world. Yet, sometimes life takes an unexpected (traumatizing) turn and our eyes become opened to see this profound reality.
This clarified vision has reinforced for me why at Goldenwood, through Nautilus, Red Vineyard, GreenHouse, and our various Institute offerings, we need to continue to create spaces for this kind of perception. Places where people can slow down enough to discern where God might be at work, and to risk walking toward His movement. When we hear the voice that matters most, we are animated by wonder: God indeed is moving, diligently at work in ways we could never orchestrate nor claim credit for.
Thank you for being part of this listening community. For trusting Goldenwood as a place to cultivate spiritual attentiveness. For your partnership, your prayers, and your presence in our community this year. I believe our year-end video underscored by Sandra’s song “He is Moving” perfectly captures our hope to see the unexpected reality of redemption all around us.
As we enter a new year, will we slow our pace enough to hear God’s reassuring voice? Will we follow in the steps of God’s Spirit and not be driven by the frantic pace of fear? Can we ground ourselves knowing that even amidst the brokenness of our world, we are beloved participants in a story much larger than ourselves? May we resolve to become more attentive to our God who is already redeeming all things.
To help you grow in this kind of attentiveness as we look to the new year, I’ve designed a year-end reflection exercise. I invite you to carve out one hour of quiet space to notice the places God has been at work in your own life this past year, to the praise of His glory.
May you experience in the coming year the deep rest and joy of participating in work that is not your own to author but God’s to finish.