2025 Word of the Year Reflection – Choose (and Chosen)

Usually I do my Reflection on my Word of the Year on the last Thursday of the year…but with New Year’s being on Thursday, that’s when I have new Word of the Year post, so I decided to put this on the last Monday instead. (Because I sure wasn’t going to do it on Christmas. And, hey, it’s my blog and I make the rules. Right? LOL. Had to remind myself of that…)

On January 1, 2025, I shared what words I had prayerfully considered for 2025, and how I landed on choose…and chosen. I ended the post with these thoughts:

There will always be things beyond our control–I know that better now than ever. But I also know that my choices still matter, even in those times.

I will choose joy. I will choose faith. I will choose relationships. I will choose love. I will choose dreams that honor God. I will choose helping others. I will choose the things that last.

I shared how, in 2024 (which shall forever be known in my life as The Year of Cancer Treatments), I became so aware of all the things we don’t get to choose in life…but how even in them, what we do get to choose is more important than ever. I shared how the choices I made for my health were all with the goal of not going through cancer again. I shared how I’d learned anew in 2024 and wanted to carry with deliberation into 2025 how crucial it is that we choose our responses, our priorities, and even our dreams with wisdom and prayer.

It’s now the end of the year. How did I do with this word?

Well, I’ll admit it–when I realized the end of the year was coming, and hence this reflection post, I stared blankly at my screen and thought, “What was my word? Seriously, what was my word? I have no idea.”

Insert headslap here.

It’s not uncommon for me to have to remind myself throughout the year of what it was. With the exception of Intentional, it’s never as front-and-center as I hope it will be, at least not consciously. But I can usually jog my memory pretty easily and pull it out, dust it off. This year…nope. I had to look it up.

But in my defense, that’s because it’s been a crazy last quarter, LOL. And when I did look it up and went, “Oh, yeah…riiiiiiight,” I could also smile. Because even though I’d forgotten Choose was my word, I never forgot the importance of choosing, just as I’d laid out in my January 1st post.

I had, in that post, a list of bullet points of things we get to choose, no matter what:

• I get to choose my reactions to each situation and circumstance.
• I get to choose my own priorities.
• I get to choose to find joy and delight.
• I get to choose who and what I will welcome into my daily routine.
• I get to choose on what I’ll ponder and dwell and meditate.
• I get to choose to remain faithful to God and His calling, to my friends and family, to my own dreams.
• I get to choose where and how I’ll stretch toward bigger dreams, more challenges, and distant goals.
• I get to choose when to rest and how to do it.

Choosing my reactions is something I’ve thought a lot about over a lot of years, and certainly something that remained at the forefront of my mind and heart in 2025. There were the “little” things–choosing my reaction when my 19-year-old daughter said she might get a tattoo. Choosing my reaction when editors invited me to different projects. Choosing my reaction when someone doesn’t like one of my stories.

But then, in October, there was the big thing. Choosing my reaction when my doctors informed me I had a tumor in my brain. When they told me I needed brain surgery to remove it. When they told me it was cancer…again.

I knew, as I stood in those moments, that I could not choose to not have a new tumor. But I could choose how I took the news. I could choose what words to use to share it. I could choose whether to be open and vulnerable or closed off. I could choose whether to hope or despair. I could choose to shout, “Why, God? WHY?” or admit, “I don’t want to do this again, Lord…but I know my future is in Your hand.” I could choose to deny this new truth. Or I could choose to let it shape me into who He wants me to be. I could choose not only to seek life but to embrace the perspective that comes with looking possible death in the face.

I chose. I chose faith. I chose hope. I chose vulnerability. I chose gratitude. I chose a new perspective. And friends, it made all the difference. I’m standing here knowing I’ll have treatments again for who-knows-how-long, but with peace in my heart. Certain that whatever happens, God will use it for His glory. At peace. Filled up. Ready to fly into the future on His wings.

Choosing my priorities. I have a lot on my plate. Enough that this was the year my agent replied privately to a book offer with, “Do I need to stage an intervention? Are you okay? This is a lot!” Yeah, Steve…it’s a lot, LOL. But for this season, I’ve chosen to say yes to stories. I’ve chosen to prioritize projects that will allow me to pay for my daughter’s college (ah, reality). I’ve chosen to pack my days to the brim with the things that are the very air I breathe: WORDS.

That doesn’t mean I haven’t dropped balls, especially when unexpected cancer treatments and scans interrupt my lovely schedule. I have. Some of my priorities have shifted through the year, and others have been neglected unintentionally.

But each new week, when I write out my list of things to do by Friday, I am very aware of a new chance to prioritize. To take care of things. To choose my focus.

Some days, I ignore all that. In the week after learning about the tumor, I admit it–I neglected the “things to do” on my list. I re-prioritized on the fly, and I decided that the most important thing I could do was work through this. So I wrote a story I didn’t have to, maybe that I shouldn’t have focused on yet. I choose that, and looking back, it was one of the most joyful ten days of the year. Then, right after learning about a new health crisis. So I don’t regret that choice one bit. It was exactly what I needed to do.

Choosing to find joy and delight. That last one is a prime example of this too, LOL. Now, I’m a naturally cheerful person. I am Optimist Prime. Joy is my default, not something I have to strive for most of the time. So this feels a little like cheating, to actually list it. One of those things I can usually just automatically check off. Yep–joyful! But there are certainly challenges to it day to day, and I think I did a pretty good job of not sitting too long in the dark places, even though I granted them their place, felt through the emotions. And then chose joy once more.

Choosing who and what I welcome into my daily routine. While I admit I haven’t been great at this all year–usually my routines are pretty much determined by that to-do list for the week–I did run a beta test version of a program I’ve called Writers’ Cross Training, which is all about choosing how we balance the important things in our lives day to day. Writing, education, marketing…but also spiritual growth, family life, exercise, and food choices.

I still have some tweaks to make to the program, but going through it with a handful of friends was not only fun but encouraging, as we held each other accountable for twelve weeks and really focused on how we’re meeting the needs of all those different parts of ourselves and our world. How we’re making those daily choices about what to put into our routine, into our day.

I think I need a revisit! 😉

Choosing what I’ll ponder, meditate on, and dwell on. Basically, we get to choose what we think about. And I gotta say, there were quite a few times when worry tried to creep in this year, and I deliberately said, “Nope. You know what I’m going to think about instead?” Usually, spoiler alert, it was stories. 😉 And in those moments, usually my fantasy stories, because there’s something very freeing about thinking about a world so far out of this world. But I also spent plenty of time developing my historical romances and my contemporary characters too!

Choosing to remain faithful to God and His calling, to my friends and family, to my own dreams. I think, when you’ve already focused on the items above, this one comes along for the ride. When I chose faith above worry in the health crisis, that was also a decision to remain faithful to Him. Though it also required asking some questions about how my calling might change–and where it wouldn’t–if. If this new pop-up of cancer was more serious, what would that mean? How would I honor God’s calling if my strength failed? How would I help support my family if I couldn’t keep up the pace I’d set for myself? There aren’t easy, pat answers to these questions, but asking them made me so much more aware of how God permeates every facet of life. How even when we’re weak, He doesn’t just cradle us, He continues to use us to reach others.

Coming off a year of radiation treatments, seven contracted books due, travel for conferences, a reconstruction surgery that looks like it’s failing thanks to that irradiated skin on the right side, the joy of seeing one of my stories on the stage, an AMAZING retreat with my P&P ladies, and a list of books I want to write (and read!) and things I want to do that are infinitely growing and already longer than I am tall…I think I’ve done pretty good on this one. There’s always room for improvement, of course. In all of those things. But I have chosen to pursue them. And in so doing, have also addressed that next one on the list, choosing where to stretch toward bigger dreams, more challenges, and distant goals.

Seven books in a year is a stretch, friends! The most I’d done before cancer was six, and that felt slightly insane. But I said yes to seven because I wanted to take on each individual project, and I’ve managed it! I also have seven slated for 2026, so we’ll see how it goes with infusions every three weeks.

And finally…

Choosing when and how to rest. Sometimes this feels like an indulgence–like when I took two weeks at the beach in September, since those two weeks were cheaper than one week in June, and I used one of them as a writing retreat. Or when I close down the computer with tasks still remaining undone, acknowledging that my mind is done for the day, and head for the couch and a book. When I choose a nap after church rather than some of the “doing” that needs done around the house.

And it also means acknowledging when “rest” looks different. Sometimes (not always!) writing is rest. Sometimes clearing those design projects off my plate before focusing on a writing deadline is rest. Sometimes taking a walk is rest. Sometimes ignoring the book and instead curling up against my husband in front of the fireplace and talking is rest.

Rest isn’t one thing we do. Rest is what, in that moment, will bring peace and allow you to unspool a bit. I’m still not always great at it, I can admit that.

But I must have done a decent job this year. Because while some years I arrive at December burnt out and overwhelmed and desperate for a few weeks off of life as I focus on Christmas, this year I arrived at December with a song on my lips, joy in my heart, ideas bursting, and energy to keep on tackling everything. Some days or weeks still feel overwhelming, but I’ve learned that in those times, it’s more important than ever to step away from the to-do list and rest.

So here we are, at the end of 2025. A year that certainly didn’t go quite how I planned it, but which I still chose to find joy in–and then found that joy far surpassed anything I could have made on my own.

It was a year with an unexpected award, when The Collector of Burned Books won the Christianity Today Fiction Book of the Year award. A year when I first got to see people bringing a story to life with the Fidele Youth Dance Company’s production of Christmas at Sugar Plum Manor. It was a year of viral posts about book bans, hard health news, and new friendships. A year of STORY. A year of laughter. A year of tears.

2025, for all its bad news, was a good year. Looking back over it, tears flood my eyes, but they’re not sad tears. They’re grateful tears. 

I chose. I did. And God met me there. He met in the hardship and He met me in the fear, and He gave me joy instead. He gave me peace. He gave me the promise that the future is always bright when we focus on the Light. And our story is always one of victory when we focus on the Word.