Every new year, we’re sold the idea of the “fresh start,” a clean calendar page, a chance to get it right.

Sometimes, that page feels heavy with last year’s ink, and with the year one month old, we could be navigating the same difficult lines we hoped to leave behind in January.

Image in the mirror

I once recall sitting in my car, staring at my reflection in the rearview mirror. I didn’t recognize the person looking back. The internal monologue was a loop of “this is all you’ll ever be.”

It was in that space that I finally understood a perspective I had previously only skimmed: “Where weakness increased, grace increased all the more.”

Those words from Romans 5:20 stopped being a religious cliché and became a practical reality. I started to see that my failures weren’t the end of my story—they were the exact place where a better chapter could begin.

Changed so worthy

We often treat the new year like a court hearing, trying to prove we’ve changed so we can be “worthy” of a good life. But the story Jesus told about the Prodigal Son flips the script.

In the story, a young man wastes everything and returns home expecting a lecture or a job as a servant. He even has a speech prepared to apologize for his mess.

A love that runs

But the father doesn’t wait for the speech. While the son is still a long way off, the father runs to him. He doesn’t ask for a progress report or a list of resolutions. He embraces him.

The father didn’t wait for the son to get his life together. He met him while he was still covered in the dust of his journey.

That’s a powerful shift in perspective: Love doesn’t wait for us to “clean up” before it shows up. It runs to meet us in the middle of the mess.

I think about Peter, who famously crumbled under pressure and denied his closest friend. He didn’t get a “pull yourself together” speech. Instead, he was invited to a quiet breakfast and asked one honest question: “Do you love me?”

He wasn’t asked to grovel. He was invited to start again.

As we look ahead, maybe the goal isn’t to be “complete.” Maybe the goal is realize that we aren’t defined by our worst moments.

Our past doesn’t have to be our future; God’s love always moves faster than shame.

• John Singarayar SVD holds a doctorate in Anthropology. He is an author of several books and regularly contributes to academic conferences and publications focusing on sociology, anthropology, tribal studies, spirituality, and mission.