What's your word for the year?
When I started working at YouVersion, I was surprised by how often people asked me a simple question: “What’s your word for the year?”
While it might being a familiar practice to you or in other Christian spacaes, I had never really heard of it before. I wasn’t someone who made New Year’s resolutions, and honestly, I felt hesitant to participate in something that felt more like a trend than a spiritual discipline. Scripture doesnt’ comman us to choose a word each January, after all. So my first year on the team, my answer was easy: “I don’t have one.”
That changed a couple of years ago.
The year I finally chose a word, it was “surrender.” At the time, it sounded good. I chose it because I’m a Type A person who likes plans, structure, and a sense of control. I didn’t realize yet how deeply God was about to teach me what surrender actually meant.
That year was our first year of marriage, and my husband’s company went though three months of layoffs—eventually letting go of nearly 17,000 employees. Because we were both new in our careers, every day felt uncertain. I lived with a constant knot in my stomach, wondering if today was the day he would be let go.
On paper, it looked like we were doing all the right things. We had a budget. We were saving for a house. We had paid off our loans. According to our projections, we were doing exactly what we were supposed to do. But when the layoffs started, we froze everything. We only spent money on the essentials and put every other plan we had on hold.
It was in that season that God gently—but firmly—showed me something uncomfortable: I wasn’t actually trusting him. I was trusting our budget.
Psalm 20:7 says, “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.” In David’s context, chariots and horses represented military strength—visible, measurable security. For me, it wasn’t an army; it was a financial plan. A good and wise thing, yes—but never meant to be the source of my peace.
God provides. We steward. When I allowed stewardship to become my security, it turned into an idol.
During those months, God began rewiring my heart and my mind. He started teaching me to trust him instead of outcomes, to hope in him instead of stability, and to find my security in his faithfulness rather than my foresight. Jesus’ words in Matthew rang differently than they ever had before: “Do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ … But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you” (Matthew 6:31–33).
That passage isn’t a promise of ease or excess. It’s an invitation to reordered priorities. And in that reordering, we found unexpected freedom.
During those three months, my husband and I felt convicted to live generously. We gave beyond the tithe and to people who were in need. From a logical standpoint, it didn’t make sense. But it was there, in that moment of sacrifice, that God reminded us: money is not our source of peace, hope, security, or joy. God is.
Paul writes, “I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content… I can do all things through him who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:11–13). Contentment, as Paul describes it, isn’t tied to circumstances. Instead, it’s learned dependence on Christ.
Today, my husband still has his job, and I’m deeply grateful. But I’m even more grateful for what God did in us during that season. We came out knowing and believing that we can surrender everything to God, because everything we have already belongs to him anyway. And yes—we still keep a budget.
Since that first year, I’ve continued choosing a word. And each year, I’m reminded that this practice isn’t about participating in Christian culture or finding the perfect word. It’s about intentionally seeking God.
It could be a word.It could be a verse.It could be a commitment to God’s Word every day.
Whatever it is, it becomes a way of fixing our gaze on God. Scripture tells us that we are “transformed by the renewal of [our] mind” (Romans 12:2). That renewal doesn’t happen accidentally. It happens as we consistently place ourselves before God, allowing him to reshape our thoughts, reorder our priorities, and form us to look more like Jesus.
The power isn’t in the word.The power is in the God who meets us when we seek him.
Kali Gibson is the editor-in-chief for So We Speak and a copywriter for the Youversion Bible App.
