Becoming → Flourish: A New Year, A New Chapter

January always feels like opening a brand-new notebook, full of hope, clean pages, and the bold belief that this will be the year I keep my planner organized. (If you’ve seen my past planners, you know this is faith in action.) 

Looking back on 2025, one word keeps echoing in my heart: Becoming.

This was the year of stepping out of familiar spaces, some I’d lived in for over twenty years, and trusting God with a future I couldn’t quite see yet. Walking away from an industry I’d poured so much of my life into wasn’t easy. I felt brave… and also a little like, “Okay Lord, now what?” 

And in so many moments, I felt my dad’s voice in my heart, the steady reminder he lived by: “Trust God, even when it doesn’t make sense.” His life planted seeds of faith and perseverance in me long before I realized I’d need them. In many ways, becoming has looked like learning to walk out the values he modeled, faith first, people matter, and God always has a plan. 

But in the middle of all that uncertainty, God was quietly doing something incredible not just in me, but in my family. 

This year, I had the gift of witnessing something I’ll never forget: 

My husband Scott, my oldest daughter Christyana, and my 11-year-old daughter Melody being baptized and my son Logan and baby girl Victoria accepting Jesus as their Lord and Savior. 

Talk about holy goosebumps. 

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. 

It was steady, simple obedience, our family slowly becoming rooted in God’s Word together. Bible time at home. Conversations about faith in car rides. Little prayers whispered at bedtime. I could almost see God weaving it all together, the same way He did in my childhood, through my dad’s example. 

And somewhere in the middle of motherhood, grief, learning, and starting again, I realized: 

Becoming isn’t glamorous. 

It’s planting deep roots when nobody claps. 

It’s trusting that God is building something underneath the surface. 

I’m also one year away from finishing school, which still feels surreal. There have been late-night assignments, coffee that probably qualifies as a food group, and so many moments when I wondered if I was actually capable of doing this. But God has carried me every single step and I know my dad would be cheering, “Keep going. God’s not done.” 

And yes, I’ve had seasons this year with no job title attached to my name. 

But strangely, I’ve never felt more purposeful. I know certain doors closed because God is preparing something I’m not ready for yet. His timing is slow sometimes… but it’s never wrong. 

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord… 

plans to give you hope and a future. - Jeremiah 29:11 

And now, here comes 2026. 

My word? 

Flourish. 

Flourish is that shift from growing quietly under the soil… 

to finally seeing green shoots break through. 

It’s allowing faith, creativity, calling, and purpose to bloom in visible ways, not to show off, but to show God’s faithfulness.

It looks like confidence (the God-given kind). 

It looks like stability. 

It looks like joy that doesn’t depend on circumstances. 

It’s stepping fully into the life God’s been preparing me for, as a mom, student, and future teacher… with messy hair, mismatched socks some days, and a heart determined to trust Him anyway. 

And in this season, flourishing also means watching my dad’s legacy continue, not as a memory, but as something living. The faith he planted in our family is now taking root in my kids. The love for Jesus he modeled is blossoming into new stories, new commitments, new steps of obedience. 

What once felt like loss now feels like inheritance, the kind that grows and multiplies. 

Psalm 1:3 keeps humming in my spirit: 

“They are like trees planted by streams of water, 

which yield their fruit in season.” - Psalm 1:3 

Fruit in season, not sooner, not rushed, not forced. 

Flourishing doesn’t always look like big announcements or perfect timelines. 

Sometimes it looks like peace in uncertainty. 

Sometimes it looks like laughter in the chaos. 

Sometimes it looks like writing “survived” across another planner week and calling that a win. 

But through every transition, God has been steady, patient, and kind. 

So, here’s to becoming, the year of unseen roots. 

And here’s to flourishing, the year I trust God to bring fruit. 

Blooming right where He’s planted me, imperfect, hopeful, grateful, and fully His… 

carrying my dad’s legacy forward in every step, 

and dreaming of the day that legacy will flourish into a foundation that serves and uplifts others. 

With faith, hope, and a whole lot of grace, 

Raquel