Eyes to See: My Word for 2025 — Vaneetha Risner
Every January, I choose a word for the year instead of a New Year’s resolution. It’s simpler, sticks with me longer, and I keep it visible—in blocks in my office and on my daily prayer card. Seeing it every day helps me pray and live into that word. In the past I’ve had words like abide, overlook, and charitable as well as phrases like ‘God is using this’ and ‘I agree.’
My word for 2025 is see. Since I sometimes choose phrases, this is absolutely the shortest word I’ve ever picked. The letters "SEE" looked so lonely that I had to take their photo in a different spot in my office so the blocks wouldn’t seem so insignificant.
There are countless ways to interpret this word, but I want to instinctively see God in everything, and ask him, both in situations that trouble or delight me, “What do you want me to see?”
How I Chose My Word for 2025
I love knowing how people choose their words. Some years I’ve just chosen it at the last minute and other times I’ve pondered it for months. For this word, I first jotted down "see" along with other possibilities last fall but wasn’t sure what I would decide on. Then, "see" kept appearing in ways I couldn’t ignore.
In late December, I read John 20:29 "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed," and I wrote in my journal: "Lord, help me look past what is obvious to what is real. Help me see with spiritual sight." Then I came across a note in my Spurgeon study Bible that deepened my prayer:
"We have a special blessing in not having seen and yet believing... Instead of wanting to see—believe. trust, follow [him] in the dark, for it is better not to see. Those who believe without seeing receive the higher blessing."
I also noticed that after the resurrection, no one recognized Jesus at first: not Mary Magdalene, the disciples in the locked room, or those on the road to Emmaus. Jesus did something unique for each of them to open their eyes—calling Mary’s name, showing his wounds, blessing the bread. I wondered how many times I’ve missed Jesus, even when he was right there.
Another nudge came while working on my book about life after divorce. In a chapter on parenting, I reflected on how I wished I could go back and see my daughters—really see them. I wish I’d focused on what they needed and who they were, instead of being preoccupied with my own pain. My friend Christa Wells and I even co-wrote a song entitled “I Would See You” about seeing our children. If you listen to it, you’ll notice my voice is nowhere to be found. You’re welcome.
As I’ve reflected on it, there are three things I want to see in 2025:
See Jesus
I want to see past my circumstances and believe that God is working even in the dark. To look beyond the visible and trust the invisible. To live Hebrews 11:1: "Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things unseen." What’s unseen will one day be visible—but can I trust until then?
In 2025, I want to see Jesus in everything—in the moments that make sense and the ones that don’t. I want to pray big prayers and trust that God is moving, even when I can’t see how. I want to remember that behind every hard thing is the certainty of God’s goodness.
I also want to recognize that Jesus is always with me, even when I don't feel his presence or see his hand. I know I often miss his quiet nearness in the midst of ordinary days and hard seasons. Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, I want Jesus to open my eyes so I can know he’s with me, not just in theory but as a present, unshakable reality.
See Others
I often view life through the lens of how it affects me; I’m in the foreground of every picture and everyone else is in the background. But I want to see past the things that frustrate me and offer a generous interpretation of other people’s words and actions. Instead of assuming that someone deliberately cut me off in traffic because they feel self-important, I want to imagine they’re rushing to help someone. I want to believe the best.
Luke 6:32-33 challenges me: "If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them. But love your enemies, do good... expecting nothing in return." This kind of love sees beyond surface-level offenses to the pain, struggles, or fears behind someone’s behavior.
Jesus modeled this for us. He saw Zacchaeus as more than a tax collector. He saw dignity in the woman at the well. He saw worth in the children the disciples brushed aside. I want to see people the way Jesus sees them—as beloved, hurting, and worthy of compassion.
See Myself
My sister Shalini’s friend Sharon once told her: “Sit with what irritates you.” Doing that can take me a while, since apparently, a lot of things irritate me. It’s deceptively simple advice, but it has led to more self-discovery than I expected. When I’m irritated, I’m learning to pause and ask, "Why does this bother me? What do you want me to see, Lord?" God delights in answering that question, though I have to be ready for the answer.
Self-awareness isn’t always flattering. Sometimes what I see is selfishness, impatience, or insecurity. But instead of turning away, I want to invite God into those moments to change me. To grow me. To help me extend grace to myself as I learn.
A Word to Remove?
My mom told me about an author who removes a word from her vocabulary each year. I loved the idea—but it doesn’t work with my block-letter system. And of course, that’s a non-negotiable since I’ve purchased a lifetime supply of wooden blocks. But if I were to pick a word to remove, it would be "criticism." My internal critic can be loud—about myself and others. But I want to choose grace instead. I want to believe the best, speak with kindness, and remind myself that the Lord’s voice is gentle and loving.
Final Thoughts
In 2025, I’m praying for eyes to see Jesus more clearly, see others more generously, and see myself more honestly. I want to walk by faith, trusting that even when I can’t see anything positive, God is working for my good. I want to keep asking the Lord throughout my day, “What do you want me to see?”
What about you? Do you have a word for the year? Or a word you want to remove? I’d love to hear about it in the comments.
Note: The painting on my shelf is by my friend, Barbara Coleman
