I started 2025 with a goal of finding my theological home. Over the course of a few months I read books on theology: Covenantalism, Dispensationalism, Arminianism, Calvinism….

In my studies, I learned that none of these things are easily explained. They all are informed by years of history and scholarship, and come with endless rabbit trails of nuance and exception.

It was exhausting.

I’m glad to report, however, that I did find my theological home ground. I’m happy to play in all kinds of theological playgrounds, making friends and respecting the boundaries. I always have and I always will. But there is a comfort in finding home.

And no, I’m not going to tell you what it is! Because it doesn’t matter. It’s nice to have some questions settled, but it really isn’t necessary. I’ve seen too many people go off-tilt into theological hinterlands, meanwhile losing the whole point along the way. Theology is heady stuff. But we need to remember Paul’s direct admonition to the Corinthians: Those who think they know something do not yet know as they ought to know. But whoever loves God is known by God. (1 Corinthians 8:2-3)

So anyway, with my little quest satisfied, I’ve turned my mind back to the basics that all Christians agree on. And I found that more and more of life comes down to surprisingly small ground:

God is the Creator. He created all things. We can peer through our most powerful telescopes and still find uncountable galaxies spinning off into eternity. We can look through our most powerful microscopes and continue to discover ever more precise and complicated structures. But it all comes down to this: God is the Creator of all things, and as hard as we try to explain it away, we always run up against our limits in trying to do so.

Evil is real. I was raised in the age of belief that it was actually possible for humanity to one day get along. We just needed more education, or less religion, or something—but it was possible. This was the error of the first generation to mature without the memory of the horrors of World War 2. But it has become frighteningly obvious that there is indeed a force of evil at work in this world, and there will continue to be wars and hate and selfishness and just plain evil for as long as humanity survives. I don’t think there is any denying it anymore.

Jesus loves us. Overwhelmingly. Sacrificially. Beyond all reason or explanation. The Creator allowed his Son to be overcome by evil in order to rescue us out of the kingdom of darkness and into the kingdom of his love.

This is the Christian story in a nutshell. And we are tasked with either surrendering to that love, or running our own ships aground in the futility of believing that we can escape these realities.

So I’m starting 2026 by noticing how creation speaks. Every snowflake, every sunrise advertises God’s immense creative glory. And I’m refusing to naively think that evil is not a force in our world, actively capturing both individual and corporate desires and passions to increase its dark reach wherever it can.

But mostly, I’m giving myself over to the wonder of being loved. “Jesus loves me”, the children sing, and that truly is the sum of it. In a world grasping for power and attention, for control and self-justification, I’m choosing to rest in the love lavishly offered to me, and live from that place of peace.

Are you tired? Burned out? Discouraged or lonely? His love is a refuge in the midst of the storm. The storms still come, but our hearts can find shelter in their very midst. This is where I’m choosing to settle in 2026 and beyond. His love is where I make my home. Will you join me?

How priceless is your unfailing love, O God! People take refuge in the shadow of your wings. They feast on the abundance of your house; you give them drink from your river of delights. For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light.

Psalm 36:7-9