Reflecting on the Epiphany
Yesterday at church, we celebrated the Solemnity of the Epiphany—the three Magi finding Christ by following a mysterious star. I’ve been thinking about my “resolutions” since New Year’s Eve, and this morning it dawned on me what my course of action needs to be in 2026.
Funny how God often guides us quietly, pointing us in the direction we need to go—much like that star.
Flashback: December 31, 2025
I tuned in to the Times Square New Year’s Eve countdown, which was bigger than ever with two balls being lowered—one for the new year and one commemorating the 250th birthday of our nation. Times Square is always a spectacle anyway: lights, big stages, and people dressed to make sure the cameras find them. Those party-goers seem to revel in all the attention, the noise, the spotlight.
I would never want to be there. The crush of the crowd, the winter chill… and where do you even find a bathroom? People joke, but I think they’re serious: “Depends!” (Yikes.)
I enjoy watching the bands, but I caught myself mocking REO Speedwagon when they took to the stage. Was Kevin Cronin wearing dentures? I found myself laughing—why don’t these old-timers just retire already?!
Of course, guilt followed quickly, so I revised my inner commentary into a small prayer: Lord, forgive me for being so petty. Good for them for continuing to share their gift of song with a new generation. Credit where it’s due—they’re still stepping out instead of stepping down.
And then I caught myself in one of those moments when God seems to speak back:
“Will you keep stepping out—and not down?”
“That” Song
As the balls sank lower with shouts of “10-9-8…”, I felt the gravity turn inward. I realized God had been drawing me closer to the light all week. His light.
With the official stroke of midnight, they played it.
THAT song: New York, New York.
It’s crept into my mind on random occasions over the last few years—sweeping the driveway, taking out the garbage—you get the picture. Why? I have no idea. Living in Hawaii, New York is about as distant as can be, and I have no desire to live there.
I want to be a part of it…
Part of what?
Not this spectacle. No way.
Not applause.
Not recognition.
Not the spotlight.
And suddenly, the question isn’t about New York at all.
It’s about something else.
Start spreading the news…
I feel the nudging of the Holy Spirit, pushing me toward the true Light of the World. This is the call of discipleship. It demands stepping out—to share, to witness, to let light shine where it has been hidden. To be the lamp lifted out from under the bushel, the city placed on a hill—the kind of “spectacle” that quietly but clearly says:
Look.
See the Lord of light and hope.
The Tension
Why am I so afraid of stepping up in faith?
Why am I afraid of stepping out of the shadows?
The tension between “going big” and remaining humble is real. But humility and meekness don’t mean hiding or shrinking in fear of the secular scrutiny and criticism that will surely greet our faithful steps.
The call is to trust God—to trust that He will give us the voice we need to spread His word and live out the gifts He has placed in us, even in a world that is loud, chaotic, and distracting.
Keep on Loving God
And I thought back to REO Speedwagon. I was so busy looking at Kevin’s teeth while he sang that I never really dialed into the lyric itself. But now I heard it clearly:
Keep on Loving You.
A song originally written about betrayal in a relationship—now pointing me to God’s steadfast and merciful love. A love that remains even when we drift, when we get distracted, when we fail to love Him back.
Being truly faithful requires stepping into the light. It takes courage. It’s a daily choice. It takes resolve—even through rejection—to keep stepping up… and out.
You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden.
— Matthew 5:14
Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.
— Matthew 5:16
My Resolution and Invitation
And so this year, my resolution is clear: to step up and out in true discipleship—shining light where it has been hidden and sharing Christ’s gospel with courage and joy.
For anyone reading this, I invite you to join me.
I’ve got other resolutions too—hitting the gym more, learning the piano, figuring out how to make a dazzlingly beautiful charcuterie board.
But this first resolution—letting God use me to boldly step it up a notch in spreading the Good News in a world that desperately needs His light?
That’s the star worth reaching for.
