As another year turns, I’ve found myself thinking about influence, not the loud kind, not the viral kind, but the quiet, steady influence of kindness.
One small act of kindness can completely change someone’s day. A word. A moment of time. A shared table. We rarely see the full impact of what we give, but that doesn’t make it any less.
For most of my life, I have lived to please others. I’ve given my time, my money, my energy, and often myself, choosing kindness even when it cost me. I don’t regret that. Kindness matters and Love matters.
What I didn’t realise for a long time, though, is that constantly giving without pause is exhausting. Even the most willing heart eventually runs dry. Sometimes we need to stop, to recharge, to recoup, and to do things simply because they restore us, not because they serve someone else.
The Bible doesn’t condemn rest; it commands it. Even Jesus stepped away from the crowds. If Christ Himself needed space to pray and breathe, then so do we.
There are moments when we feel a deep calling to help, to comfort, to step in. But here’s the hard truth I’ve had to learn: we cannot do this for everyone.
So who do we prioritise?
For me, it starts with family, then friends. This doesn’t diminish God, God is at the centre of everything.
Scripture reminds us that caring for our own household matters. Loving our neighbour begins close to home.
This year, I am choosing forgiveness.
Forgiveness for the small things, like someone pushing in a queue. Forgiveness for the larger things too: the opinions that cut deep, the words spoken about my life or my family that never should have been said.
But forgiveness does not mean allowing harm to repeat itself.
Alongside forgiveness, I am placing boundaries. Healthy ones. Necessary ones. Boundaries that protect my heart, my family, and my peace. I will spend my time with those who want to be present with me and my family, those who make the effort, who show kindness, who choose relationship rather than convenience.
“Love thy neighbour” is one of the most quoted teachings in the Bible, and one of the most misunderstood. For me, this year, it means giving my time where it is wanted and needed. It means charity. It means acting in love rather than chasing the feeling of being loved in return.
You can’t feed someone who isn’t hungry. The same is true of love.
In my work with young people, food is always part of what we do. We sit around a table. It’s simple, but it’s deeply intentional. Jesus was always at a table, feeding people, welcoming people, building community. The table says: you belong here.
At our Christmas youth party each year, I ask the young people to make a paper chain. Inside each link, they write what they’re thankful for and what they’re worried about. Without fail, the thankfulness looks the same: friends, family, food, pets, kindness. The worries are different, often about the unknown, about school, about what comes next.
It’s a reminder to me that community and kindness are never small things. They are foundations of faithful servants.
So as I look ahead, this year is about continuing to build where foundations already exist, with friends, with family, with volunteers, and within our local community. Community is at the heart of everything we do, and love grows best where it is tended, not forced.
Where will I be in 2026?
I will be loving my neighbour, my family, my friends, my community. I will be sharing joy, kindness, and generosity, even when they are not reflected back. I will keep boundaries in place to protect what matters. I will step away from relationships that cause harm. And when I look back, I hope I will see just how far I’ve come, knowing that through it all, God was walking beside me.
This year, my influence won’t be louder.
It will be kinder.
What is driving you this new year?
Joel Luke - Life with Faith 