At the beginning of a new year, we tend to feel optimistic.
We hope things will go well. We make plans. We look ahead with expectation.
And that’s a good thing. As Rick Warren once said, we need hope to cope.
At the same time, most of us know this too:
Life doesn’t unfold neatly. Along with good seasons come testing ones.
And yet, there is another truth I keep discovering — sometimes the most challenging seasons carry the most meaningful gifts, if we are willing to open ourselves to them and receive what they bring. That doesn’t mean we wish for difficult times. It simply means that life often holds more depth than we initially see.
As I write this letter, we are in Australia, supporting our daughter through her final rounds of chemotherapy.
Even the journey here became part of the story. Flying from Cape Town to Melbourne via Johannesburg and Singapore, we were tested along the way. As we approached Johannesburg, the aircraft had to abort its landing three times due to a severe thunderstorm. The plane was shaken as we dealt with turbulence and sudden changes of direction.
I’ll be honest — I prayed a few prayers.
I re-surrendered my life.
And I was reminded that a safe arrival is never a given.
But when we finally landed, something unexpected followed the relief — gratitude. Gratitude for life. Gratitude for a well-engineered aircraft. Gratitude for the calm skill of the cockpit crew. Things I usually take for granted suddenly felt precious again.
I also realised that, just like this flight, detours and delays are sometimes necessary in life. It’s better to flow with them than to fight them.
Because of the delays, we missed our connecting flight in Singapore. On paper, an inconvenience. In reality, a gift. We were treated to a day-long stay in a smart hotel, with a wonderful breakfast and lunch — all expenses covered. We rested well, and although it disrupted our plans, it actually made the rest of our journey to Melbourne easier and gentler.
Then we arrived at our daughter’s home.
Instead of everything feeling dark and heavy under the shadow of cancer, we encountered a deep connection of love. Very quickly, we became aware of how much joy can exist in the midst of hardship. They told us about family and friends around the world reaching out; about a community of mums bringing meals for their child; and about relationships with her in-laws that deepened and strengthened as they stepped in with practical and emotional support.
And then there was our grandchild, discovering life with curiosity and delight — quietly reminding us to notice the small, simple things we so easily overlook.
All of this has reminded me of something important.
Life doesn’t only give us strength for good times.
It also forms inner strength for whatever may come.
Not the kind of strength that hardens us or pushes us into survival mode (fight, flight, hide, denial) — but a strength rooted in appreciation, gratitude, mindfulness, and love. A strength that allows us not just to endure, but to thrive, even when circumstances are far from ideal. And the creativity to turn problems into new opportunities and possibilities.
Perhaps this is a helpful way to enter the year ahead — not expecting everything to go smoothly, but trusting that we can be equipped for what comes. That even difficult moments can bring connection, growth, and meaning. And that we can choose, again and again, not merely to survive, but to be fully alive.
That feels like a good place to begin.
May the good overshadow the difficult. And may there be many, wonderful, unexpected gifts on the way!
A reflection question for the year ahead:
Where in your life might you be living in survival mode — and what would it look like to take one small step towards thriving instead?
