A Turning Point in 2026

 It is a new year 2026 and with it comes a quiet shift in how I choose to move through the world.

I know disappointment will still exist. I know there will still be moments where I feel unseen. But I am no longer allowing myself to remain in spaces that make those feelings permanent. I am changing my approach not by becoming cold, but by becoming more guarded. I will still be kind. I will still greet others with warmth and respect. But I am learning to be with myself more often. Less outward. Less exposed. More intentional.

The negative thoughts still come, especially at night. They haven’t disappeared. But something has changed. Through prayer and deliberate positive thinking, I feel a turning point beginning to form. My fears are still there particularly the fear of loss. The thought of losing the people I love most weighs heavily on me: my mother and my wife. That fear has not left, but I am learning how to place it down, even if only temporarily, through prayer.

Recently, something unexpected happened. I appeared on national television here, and my family’s reaction caught me off guard. My wife, my mother both couldn’t stop talking about it. Their pride reminded me that even when I feel small or uncertain, my presence still matters. That moment did not solve my struggles, but it softened them.

When it comes to faith, I know what is required of me now. Prayer has to be heavier. Deeper. More frequent. I cannot rely on surface-level conversations with God anymore. I need to bring my thoughts and emotions fully into that space even the uncomfortable ones.

Right now, I am carrying two homes in my heart: the one I left in the United States and the one I am building where I live now. I am trying to merge two lives into one without losing myself in the process. That weight is real, and some days it feels heavier than others.

If I were to meet God right now, I would ask “why.” Why has financial prosperity felt so distant? Why haven’t I been given the means to provide the life I dream of giving my mother and my wife? But I would also say thank you.

Because through everything I’ve lived, I’ve learned. I’ve grown. I’ve made mistakes many of them, but my understanding of life has deepened. I can see the growth in myself, and that realization humbles me. Spiritually, I know I can do more. Emotionally, I know I must surrender more especially the sinful thoughts and burdens I continue to carry.

There are countless questions I would want to ask God, more than time would ever allow. So instead, I will continue to ask in prayer.

Between Why and Thank You

A new year dawns, I change my stride,

Not closed, not lost, just turned inside.

I’ll still be kind, still wave, still smile,

But walk alone with God awhile.

I’ve felt unseen, I’ve borne the weight,

Of empty rooms and moments late.

So now I choose where I remain,

Not every space deserves my pain.

The night still whispers doubts and fear,

They find me most when all is clear.

Yet prayer steps in, a steady flame,

And softly calls me by my name.

I fear the loss of those I love,

My mother’s voice, my wife’s soft touch.

So, I release what I can’t hold,

To hands far stronger than my own.

Two homes reside within my chest,

One left behind, one being blessed.

I try to merge what time has torn,

To shape one life from worlds once worn.

I ask You “why” with trembling breath,

Why lack still walks beside my steps.

Why dreams feel paused, why doors stay closed,

Why wealth feels distant, never close.

But then I stop and gratitude,

Breaks through the noise and changes view.

For all I’ve seen, for all I’ve grown,

For lessons pain has never shown.

I’ve failed, I’ve fallen, still I stand,

With wiser eyes, a softer hand.

Each scar has taught, each tear has led,

To truths my younger heart once fled.

So, if there’s time, I’d ask so much,

But faith reminds me trust is trust.

I’ll place my questions where You stay,

And keep on asking… still, I pray.

A Prayer of Surrender

Lord,

I come to You at the beginning of this new year,

not with all the answers,

but with a heart that is learning to choose You more intentionally.

You know the weight I’ve carried

the moments I felt unseen,

the rooms that felt empty,

the disappointment I tried to explain away.

Teach me wisdom in where I stand and where I step back.

Help me remain kind without losing myself.

When the night brings fear and heavy thoughts,

be the voice that quiets my mind.

Let prayer replace anxiety,

and faith stand taller than doubt.

I place before You the ones I love most

my mother and my wife.

You know my fear of losing them,

and You know how deeply I want to protect them.

Hold them in Your hands when I cannot,

and give me peace where my control ends.

Lord, I am trying to balance two homes,

two lives, two worlds within one heart.

Guide me as I bring them together,

so, I do not fracture myself in the process.

I ask You “why,” honestly and without shame.

Why provision feels delayed.

Why the life I dream of giving my family feels just out of reach.

Yet even in that question,

I thank You.

Thank You for every lesson learned through hardship.

Thank You for growth that came through struggle.

Thank You for wisdom gained through mistakes,

and strength revealed through endurance.

Forgive me for the burdens I carry alone.

Forgive me for the emotions and desires

that pull me away from You.

I give them to You now

and ask that You replace them with peace, clarity, and hope.

There are more questions in my heart

than words I could ever speak.

So instead of demanding answers,

I choose trust.

I will keep asking.

I will keep praying.

And I will keep walking with You

one day, one breath, one step at a time.

Amen.