By Nicholas Tangen

When I start to feel overwhelmed – a seemingly more regular occurrence these days – I will look for a messy drawer or a cluttered shelf to reorganize. I take everything out so I can see the blank canvas, then categorize and organize the things that belong and toss the things that don’t. It feels so dang good – and it often helps me to feel just a little more in control, a little more intentional and on-purpose.

This is why I love New Years – not the late-night parties, champagne, or the Times Square festivities – but that turn from one year to the next. I am someone who appreciates a fresh start, a new day, an opportunity to do things differently. Want to rearrange a room, set up a new daily planner, or outline some intentions for daily practice? I’m your guy.

Martin Luther said that “…a truly Christian life is nothing else than…to be buried in Baptism, and daily to come forth again.” That reminder that each day, each week, each month and year, we are set free from sin and death again and again, pushes back on the dominant stories of perfectionism and self-righteousness. What better time to name and celebrate the absurd abundance of God’s grace renewed and granted each moment than a new year?

While January 1 is somewhat arbitrary in the broader scheme of things, it’s a helpful signifier of something new. It’s an opportunity to start over and embrace the newness of life we remember every time we dip our hands in those baptismal waters.

And as I reflect on 2024, I’m aware that there is a lot to hold mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Transition and disruption are a couple of words that keep coming to mind.  And if I’m honest, I’ve been feeling a bit unmoored, unanchored, and afraid. I’m not sure what to anticipate, what to expect in the coming months.

So, for me it’s time to reorganize that drawer.

In that drawer I’m building new systems, setting new intentions, and making what I feel are some important commitments. Daily prayer, Sabbath, my neighborhood, community, a readiness for joy are the items make the cut and get a prominent place in my 2025 drawer. Comparison, despair, catastrophizing – these items are getting the boot. And I’m leaving some space in the drawer for the things that emerge in the coming year that I haven’t anticipated yet.

Each day we rise to new life, and I’m especially aware of the newness of a new year with all its hopes, questions, joys, fears, and intentions. May this year be filled with presence, practice, and possibilities. May we be church together for the sake of our neighbor, animated by the daily dying and rising of our baptism. And may our drawers be filled with those things that bring peace, resilience, and a sense of aliveness.