That One Word....

At the beginning of this year, I did something I had never really done before.

I chose a word of the year.

I had heard friends talk about their words for years. I always thought it was a neat idea, but I had never felt strongly enough about a word to actually choose one for myself. Then came 2026. I prayed about it.

And one word kept coming back to me: Obedient.

Not successful.

Not fearless.

Not stronger.

Not accomplished.

Obedient.

Back in January, I thought I understood what that word meant. But now it's September.

And y'all...I had no idea what I was asking for.

Because when you tell God you want to become more obedient, He will give you opportunities to actually practice obedience. And sometimes those opportunities don't look anything like you imagined. Not even a little bit. 

“If you are willing and obedient, you shall eat the good of the land.”
— Isaiah 1:19

Nine months into this year, I can look back and see that obedient wasn't simply a word God gave me for January. It has become a theme woven throughout my entire year. There have been moments when obedience looked beautiful. There have been moments when it hurt. There have been moments when God asked me to move when I wanted to stay. There have been moments when He asked me to let go when I wanted to hold on. There have been moments when He asked me to forgive when I would have preferred to stay angry. There have been moments when His plans looked absolutely nothing like mine.

And through all of it, God has continued asking me the same question: Will you trust Me enough to say yes?

At the beginning of the year, I knew what I wanted obedience to look like. I wanted to become more obedient to God's Word. I wanted obedience to make me a better wife. A better mother. A better friend. A better example of Christ. And I still want all of those things. But somewhere along the way, I realized I had pictured obedience as this beautiful spiritual transformation where I became more patient, loving, faithful, and Christlike. What I didn't think enough about was how God might get me there.

Because patience has to be practiced when you're frustrated. Forgiveness has to be practiced when you've been hurt. Trust has to be practiced when you don't understand. Faith has to be practiced when you cannot see. And obedience has to be practiced when you'd rather say no.

“If you love Me, keep My commandments.”
— John 14:15

Obedience isn't simply knowing what Scripture says. It's living it when living it costs something. And this year, God has been teaching me the difference.

Y'all one of the biggest lessons I've learned this year is that God doesn't always ask our permission before changing our plans. If you know me at all you know I like plans. I like knowing what's next. I like understanding why something is happening. And I especially like feeling like I have at least a tiny bit of control over where my life is going. But....God has spent quite a bit of this year reminding me that I'm not in control. There have been things I wouldn't have chosen. Changes I didn't expect. Doors I didn't plan to walk through. Things I've had to release that I wasn't ready to let go of.  Moments when I've looked at God and basically said, “This was NOT what I meant when I said obedient. Yet here we are.

“A man's heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.”
— Proverbs 16:9

Looking back from September, I can see something I couldn't always see while I was living it: Some of God's greatest redirections began with something I didn't want. And y'all....That's humbling. Because sometimes obedience is not God asking you to do the thing you've been praying for. Sometimes obedience is God saying, “I know this isn't what you planned. Follow Me anyway.” And that's where surrender becomes real and it's time for us to put our money where our mouth is.

This year has also taught me that obedience isn't always about what God asks us to do. Sometimes it's about what He asks us to release.

Hurt.

Anger.

Control.

Expectations.

Plans.

Relationships as we thought they would be.

The need to understand.

The need to be right, which if you ask my husband is REALLY HARD FOR ME.

The need to have the last word, and y'all that one is ROUGH.

Sometimes even the need for an apology.

I've learned some difficult lessons about forgiveness this year. I've learned that I can say I've given something to God and then quietly pick it right back up. I've learned that forgiveness sometimes has to happen over and over in my heart. I've learned that letting go doesn't mean what happened didn't matter. It means I'm choosing not to let what happened control what God wants to do next.

“Casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.”
— 1 Peter 5:7

Sometimes my obedient yes has sounded like:

“God, I don't understand why this happened, but I'm giving it to You.”

“God, I don't know why this relationship changed, but I'm giving it to You.”

“God, I'm still hurt, but I'm giving it to You.”

“God, I don't know if I'll ever receive the apology I wanted, but I'm giving it to You.”

And then the next day.

And the next day.

And the next day.

Sometimes I have to give it to Him again.

And again.

And again.

And that's okay!

Because that's obedience too.

When I chose this word, one of my desires was to become more obedient to God in the way I love my husband. Nine months later, I'm learning that Christ-centered marriage requires a whole lot of dying to self. Scripture tells wives:

“Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord.”
— Ephesians 5:22

And it tells husbands:

“Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself for her.”
— Ephesians 5:25

Marriage isn't about one person winning. It's two imperfect people learning how to love each other more like Christ. And sometimes obedience in marriage isn't some huge spiritual moment. Sometimes it's biting my tongue. Sometimes it's apologizing first. Sometimes it's listening when I'd rather explain myself. Sometimes it's choosing respect when I'm frustrated. Sometimes it's extending grace because I desperately need grace too. Sometimes it's praying about something before reacting to it. And sometimes it's remembering that my husband is not my enemy when we're frustrated with each other.

The question I'm learning to ask isn't simply:

“Am I right?”

It's:

“Does the way I'm handling this honor God?”

Ouch. Talk about a gut punch. That question will humble you quickly.

At the beginning of the year, I also wanted to become a better example of obedience for my children. Nine months later, I realize they're learning far more from watching me live through difficult seasons than they ever could from hearing me talk about faith when everything is going well. They're watching. They see when Mama is disappointed. They see when plans change. They see when I'm frustrated. They see when I'm scared. They see how I treat their father. They see how I treat other people. They see whether I pray. They see whether the Scripture I talk about actually changes the way I live.

“Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.”
— Proverbs 22:6

I don't need my children to grow up remembering a mother who never struggled. I want them to remember a mother who knew where to go when she struggled. I want them to remember hearing: “Mama doesn't understand this either, but we're going to trust God.” “I was wrong, and I need to apologize.” “We're going to pray about it.” “God has been faithful before, and He's going to be faithful again.” That's the kind of obedience I want them to see. Not perfection. Dependence on God.

There's something about reaching this point in the year that makes you look backward. January feels far away. The excitement of a fresh year is gone. We're deep enough into 2026 now to know that some of those plans we made didn't happen. Some prayers were answered differently than expected. Some things changed. Some things ended. Some things began. Some people surprised us. Some situations broke our hearts. Some blessings came disguised as redirections. And some prayers we're still waiting on. When I look back over these first nine months, I can see places where God was working even when I couldn't see Him. I can see why He asked me to move. I can see things He was protecting me from. I can see things He was preparing me for. And there are still things I don't understand at all. That's where obedience still matters.

“For we walk by faith, not by sight.”
— 2 Corinthians 5:7

I don't have to understand January through September perfectly to trust God with October through December. Maybe that's one of the biggest lessons this word has taught me.

Let me make one thing very clear: I have not mastered obedience this year. Not even close. There have been moments when God said move and I dragged my feet. Moments when He said forgive and I wanted to stay mad. Moments when He said wait and I wanted an answer immediately. Moments when I prayed and then still tried to control the situation myself. Moments when I knew exactly what Scripture said and still struggled to do it. There have probably been times when God has looked at me like, “Ma'am. We have already discussed this.” But thankfully, obedience isn't perfection. It's surrender. It's recognizing when I've wandered and turning back. It's repentance. It's getting up again. It's giving God another yes.

“Through the Lord's mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning.”
— Lamentations 3:22–23

Every morning means I get another opportunity.

Another opportunity to listen.

Another opportunity to forgive.

Another opportunity to love better.

Another opportunity to surrender.

Another opportunity to say:

Yes, Lord.

So here we are. September. Nine months after choosing one little word that turned out to be anything but little.

OBEDIENT.

And if I'm being truthful, this word has challenged me far more than I expected. But it has also changed me. I'm learning that obedience isn't about getting God to bless the life I've planned. It's about trusting Him enough to follow the life He's leading.

“But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves.”
— James 1:22

I don't want to simply know Scripture. I want to live it. I don't want to simply talk about trusting God. I want to trust Him when my plans fall apart. I don't want to simply talk about forgiveness. I want to forgive when I've actually been hurt. I don't want to simply tell my children to have faith. I want them to watch me choose faith when I'm scared. I don't want to tell God I'll follow Him and then only follow when I like the destination. I want my yes to belong to Him. And now, looking back at everything this year has already held, I understand my word differently. In January, obedient was something I wanted to become. In September, I'm realizing it's something God has been teaching me all along. And He's still teaching me. There are several months left in this year. I don't know what they'll hold. And after everything I've learned so far, I'm not even going to pretend I know what God has planned. But I know more about the One I'm following than I did in January.

I've watched Him provide.

I've watched Him redirect.

I've watched Him carry me.

I've watched Him open doors.

I've watched Him give me strength when I didn't think I had any left.

I've watched Him take things I didn't understand and slowly reveal pieces of His purpose.

And I've learned that sometimes God's plan only makes sense when you look backward.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.”
— Proverbs 3:5–6

So I'm not choosing a new word for the rest of the year.

I'm sticking with the one He gave me.

Obedient.

When He says go:

Yes, Lord.

When He says stay:

Yes, Lord.

When He says wait:

Yes, Lord.

When He says forgive:

Yes, Lord.

When He says let go:

Yes, Lord.

When His plan looks nothing like mine:

Yes, Lord.

When I understand:

Yes, Lord.

And when I absolutely do not:

Still yes, Lord.

Because nine months into this journey, I'm finally beginning to understand: Obedience isn't trusting that God will give me the outcome I want. Obedience is trusting God with the outcome altogether. January's word is still September's lesson. And I have a feeling God isn't finished teaching me yet.

“Speak, Lord, for Your servant hears.”
— 1 Samuel 3:9