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Thank You for Walking This Year With Me

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Photo by Sebastian Hietsch



As the clock winds down on another year, I wanted to pause…not rush…just pause, and say thank you.

Thank you for reading.
Thank you for showing up.
Thank you for walking this road with me, even when you could’ve scrolled past and moved on.

If you’re reading this on New Year’s Day 2026, chances are you’re doing what many of us do at this time of year, looking back while quietly wondering what’s ahead. This moment always feels a little sacred to me. It’s a doorway between what was and what will be. A chance to breathe, reflect, and reset.

And I want you to know something: this space exists because of you.

Some of you have been here from the beginning. Some of you found this blog in the middle of your own storm. Some of you read quietly, never commenting, never reaching out, but most importantly, taking the words in. Every one of you matters. Your presence here is not accidental.

This year wasn’t easy. For any of us.

We carried things we didn’t talk about. We prayed prayers we weren’t sure would be answered. We smiled when our hearts were tired. We questioned God. We questioned ourselves. We questioned the process.

And yet, here we are still standing, still believing, still searching for purpose, for peace, for meaning in the everyday moments of life.

That’s what this blog has always been about. It was never about perfection or pretending everything is fine. Steps of Purpose is about finding God in the ordinary, even when life feels heavy. It’s about finding hope when fear is loud and finding purpose when the path feels unclear.

If something I wrote this year encouraged you even a little or made you pause, reflect, pray, or see your life differently, then every word was worth it.

But I also want to thank you for something deeper.

Thank you for trusting me with your time.

Time is one of the most precious things we have, and you chose to spend some of it here. In a world that’s loud, rushed, and constantly pulling at your attention, you stopped long enough to read and reflect. That tells me your heart is searching for something real. And that humbles me more than you know.

As we step into a new year, I won’t promise you that everything will suddenly be easy. I won’t promise that every prayer will be answered the way we expect. But I will remind you of this:

1. God has not forgotten you.
2. Your story is not finished.
3. What feels delayed is not denied.
4. And growth often happens quietly, beneath the surface.

If this past year stretched you, shaped you, or even broke you a little, take heart. God does some of His best work in seasons we don’t fully understand.

Tonight, as one year ends and another begins, I hope you take a moment to reflect – not just on what went wrong, but on how far you’ve come. Yes, reflect on what you survived, what you learned and on the grace that carried you when you felt empty.

Thank you for being part of this journey. Thank you for reading, sharing, and supporting. Thank you for allowing this space to be more than just words on a screen.

I’m grateful for you. I’m praying for you. And I’m excited to continue walking this path together in the year ahead.

Happy New Year. May it be filled with faith, growth, healing, and purpose.

Mervin Fitzgerald Matthew | STEPS OF PURPOSE

What I’m Carrying Forward, And What I’m Leaving Behind in 2025

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Photo by Nadia Hristova


The end of a year invites us to pause, not to judge ourselves harshly, but to reflect honestly. Reflection is not about regret; it’s about alignment. It’s about deciding what belongs in the next season and what does not.


As 2025 comes to a close, I’ve been asking myself two simple but powerful questions:
What am I carrying forward? And what am I leaving behind?


Some things were never meant to follow us into a new year.
Perhaps you’re carrying disappointment that has grown heavier with time. Or expectations that were never fulfilled. Or habits of thinking that no longer serve the person God is shaping you to become.


Scripture gently reminds us: “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past” (Isaiah 43:18). Letting go is not denial;it is trust.
Leaving things behind does not erase the lessons. It honors them by refusing to be defined by them.
At the same time, there are things worth carrying forward like hard-earned wisdom, deeper dependence on God, a clearer understanding of your limits and His sufficiency.

Maybe you discovered this year that you don’t have to control everything. Maybe you learned that rest is not weakness, or that saying no can be an act of obedience. Those are gifts worth taking with you.


Before stepping into 2026, consider doing this simple exercise. Take a sheet of paper and divide it into two columns.
On one side, write Leave Behind. List attitudes, fears, habits, or mindsets you sense God asking you to release. They may include perfectionism, bitterness, comparison or rushing ahead without prayer.


On the other side, write Carry Forward. Write down truths, practices, and convictions you want to hold onto. This would include trusting God daily, seeking His presence first and choosing peace over pressure.


This act is not about self-improvement – it’s about surrender. It’s about saying, “Lord, I don’t want to bring unnecessary weight into the next season.”
God is faithful to guide us forward, but He also invites us to travel lighter.
As you prepare to step into a new year, remember this: you are not starting from scratch. You are starting from experience, grace, and growth. And God goes before you, just as He has always done.


Reflection:
What is one thing God is inviting you to leave behind and one thing He is asking you to carry forward?

Until next time, keep seeking, keep growing, and keep walking your God-given path.


Mervin Fitzgerald Matthew |Steps of Purpose

Small Steps Still Count –  Celebrating Quiet Growth in 2025

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Photo by David Kanigan


As 2025 draws to a close, it’s tempting to measure the year by big milestones, major breakthroughs, clear victories, and visible success. But most years, if we’re honest, don’t look like highlight reels. They look like slow mornings, silent prayers, repeated choices, and quiet obedience. The reality is those small steps still count.


Growth does not always announce itself. Sometimes it happens beneath the surface, where no one is applauding and no one is watching. It happens when you choose patience instead of reacting, when you keep praying even though answers seem delayed, when you show up, again and again, trusting God even when the path feels ordinary.


Maybe in 2025 you didn’t see dramatic change but maybe you became more honest in prayer. Maybe you learned to pause before speaking, maybe you forgave when it would have been easier to hold on to resentment, maybe you didn’t quit, even when quitting felt justified. Those are not small things.


The world celebrates visible success, but God celebrates quiet obedience. He sees the internal victories that never make it onto social media. He sees the battles you fought in silence and the strength it took to keep trusting Him when nothing around you seemed to change.


Sometimes growth looks like consistency rather than progress like reading your Bible even when it feels dry, choosing integrity when no one would notice if you didn’t, or continuing to believe that God is at work, even when evidence is scarce.


Faith matures slowly. Like roots growing underground, it strengthens before it ever shows fruit.

As you reflect on 2025, resist the urge to dismiss the year just because it didn’t meet your expectations. Ask a gentler question instead: How did God shape me, even quietly?


You may discover that while circumstances seemingly remained the same, your heart didn’t. And that is real growth.


As this year ends, take a moment to thank God, not only for what changed, but for what deepened. Thank Him for the unseen work,or the small steps that moved you closer to Him, one quiet decision at a time.


Small steps taken in faith lead to lasting transformation.


As you go through your day, ask yourself this simple but important question: What is one small step you took in 2025 that strengthened your faith even if no one else noticed?

Until next time, keep seeking, keep growing, and keep walking your God-given path.


Mervin Fitzgerald Matthew |Steps of Purpose

Joy to the World

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Photo by Brigitte Tohm


“Joy to the world, the Lord is come.”

We sing it every year. We hear it in stores, on the radio, at church, and maybe even humming quietly while we wrap last-minute gifts. But if we’re honest, sometimes those words pass right over us without really sinking in.

Joy to the world?
Even this world?
Even this year?

Because for many of us, Christmas doesn’t always feel joyful.

Some are celebrating with full tables and loud laughter. Others are smiling on the outside while quietly grieving what or who is missing. Some are carrying financial stress, health worries, broken relationships, unanswered prayers, or simply exhaustion from trying to hold it all together.

And yet… Joy to the world.

Its not because life is perfect or because everything suddenly makes sense, but because Christ came anyway.

That’s the part that changes everything.

Jesus didn’t wait for the world to clean itself up. He didn’t arrive once people had it all figured out. He entered a messy, hurting, fearful world, much like ours, and brought something deeper than temporary happiness.

He brought joy that doesn’t depend on circumstances.

Biblical joy isn’t loud or flashy. It’s steady, it’s rooted, it whispers hope when everything else is shouting doubt and it reminds us that God is not distant, not indifferent, and not unaware of what we’re walking through.

Christmas is God saying, “I see you. I came for you.”

And maybe today, that’s what your soul needs to hear.

Not another gift.
Not another resolution.
Not another distraction.

But reassurance.

Reassurance that you’re not forgotten.
Reassurance that your story isn’t over.
Reassurance that light still shines even in dark places.

The shepherds didn’t have their lives together. Mary and Joseph were overwhelmed and unsure. The world Jesus entered was unstable and unpredictable. Yet right there, in the middle of all of that, joy was born.

That tells me something important: joy doesn’t wait for things to get easier.

It meets us where we are.

So let me ask you something gently, not as a challenge but as an invitation:
When was the last time you slowed down enough to search your own heart?

Not to judge yourself.
Not to relive regrets.
But to honestly ask, “Where do I really need God right now?”

Maybe it’s peace.
Maybe it’s forgiveness.
Maybe it’s healing.
Maybe it’s hope.

Christmas is a reminder that God stepped into humanity to meet those exact needs. It’s not with condemnation, but with grace. It’s not with pressure, but with presence.

You don’t have to pretend or perform or have to have it all together. You just have to be willing to open your heart.

Joy to the world doesn’t mean the world is painless. It means the Savior has come into it – into your life, your struggles, your questions, your quiet prayers whispered when no one else is listening.

And that kind of joy doesn’t fade when the decorations come down.

It stays.

So wherever you are today – celebrating, struggling, reflecting, or somewhere in between, know this: Christ came for this moment too.

Joy to the world.
Joy to your heart.
Joy that reaches deeper than the surface.

Merry Christmas.

Mervin Fitzgerald Matthew | Steps of Purpose

The Rose of Sharon

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Photo by Ivan Georgiev

Some beauty announces itself loudly.
And some beauty simply exists steady, quiet, and undeniable.

Scripture describes the Lord as the Rose of Sharon, a name filled with warmth and approachability. Not a flower locked away behind palace walls, but one that grows in open fields. A beauty meant to be seen. Meant to be reached. Meant to be shared.

That alone tells us something important about the heart of Christ.

Jesus does not hide Himself from humanity. He does not require perfection before approach. He does not wait for us to have everything figured out. Like a rose growing freely across the plains, He meets us where we are right in the middle of ordinary life.

The plains of Sharon were known for abundance and fertility. Life flourished there naturally. And wherever Christ is present, life still flourishes. Not always in dramatic ways, but in steady, soul-renewing ones. Hope takes root. Faith begins to breathe again. Healing starts quietly, often before we even realize it’s happening.

A rose is admired for its beauty, but it is also resilient. It withstands seasons – heat, drought, storms. Christ’s beauty is not fragile or temporary. It endured rejection, betrayal, suffering, and the weight of the cross, yet His love remains open and extended. Still inviting. Still alive.

Photo by Ivan Georgiev

There’s also something deeply comforting about the familiarity of a rose. It’s not exotic or intimidating. It’s known. Recognizable. Comforting. In the same way, Jesus does not come to overwhelm us. He comes to draw near. To walk with us. To remind us that God is present in the everyday moments we often overlook.

And then there is the fragrance.

A rose leaves its mark without forcing attention. Its scent lingers. Long after you’ve passed by, something remains. That’s often how the presence of Christ works in our lives. After time with Him, something stays behind – peace that doesn’t make sense, clarity in confusion, calm in the middle of chaos.

You may not always be able to explain it, but you feel it.

The Rose of Sharon reminds us that God’s work is often gentle. Growth doesn’t always come through sudden breakthroughs. Sometimes it comes through consistency. Through showing up. Through grace that meets us again and again.

Maybe today you’re longing for reassurance more than revelation. Something soft, not overwhelming. Something steady, not urgent. If so, this name is for you.

Jesus is still blooming in quiet places. Still offering beauty in broken seasons. Still growing life in hearts that feel tired or worn.

The Rose of Sharon has not withered.
His grace has not faded.
His presence is still near.

And even now, right where you are, He is growing something beautiful.

Mervin Fitzgerald Matthew | Steps of Purpose

The Bright Morning Star

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Photo by David Kanigan

There’s something sacred about the early morning.

Not quite night…..Not yet day.
That quiet in-between moment where the world feels still, and hope hasn’t fully spoken out loud yet.

Scripture calls Jesus the Bright Morning Star.

It’s a name that doesn’t just describe who He is. It describes when He appears.

The morning star shows up while it’s still dark. Before the sun rises. Before the answers are clear. Before the breakthrough is visible. It shines when the night hasn’t completely let go.

And that matters.

Because so often, God doesn’t wait for everything to be fixed before He reveals Himself. He steps in while the pain is still real, while the prayers are still unanswered, while the future is still uncertain.

Jesus calls Himself the Bright Morning Star in Revelation 22:16. Not the midday sun, not the blazing noon, but the first light, the promise that dawn is coming.

If you’ve ever been in a season where things felt long and heavy, you understand this kind of hope. The kind that doesn’t erase the darkness all at once, but gently reminds you that it won’t last forever.

The morning star doesn’t compete with the night. It simply outlasts it.

That’s how Christ works in our lives. He doesn’t always remove the struggle instantly. But He gives us something just as powerful – Assurance. A quiet, steady reminder that God is still moving, still faithful, still ahead of us.

There’s also something deeply personal about this name.

The morning star is fixed. Reliable. You can look for it and know it will be there. In a world that shifts constantly – emotions, circumstances, and people, our God remains unchanged. He is constant when everything else feels unstable.

Maybe you’re reading this in an in-between season – not where you used to be but not yet where you’re going.

If so, let this name speak to you.

You don’t need full daylight to keep going. Sometimes, all you need is one clear sign that God is near – one point of light or one promise that morning is on its way.

And that is who Jesus is.

He is the Bright Morning Star
shining before the breakthrough,
present before the peace, and
faithful before the dawn.

Until next time, keep seeking, keep growing, and keep walking your God-given path.


Mervin Fitzgerald Matthew |Steps of Purpose

The Lily of the Valley

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Photo by Danila Perevoshchikov

There are names for God that feel powerful – names that make us stand taller, breathe deeper, and remember that He reigns.
And then there are names that feel tender… the kind that sit with you quietly.

One of those names is the Lily of the Valley.

It’s not loud.
It’s not dramatic.
It doesn’t demand attention.

And maybe that’s why it speaks so deeply to the heart.

A lily of the valley doesn’t grow on mountaintops. It doesn’t thrive in the spotlight. It grows in low places, shaded, often unseen. Valleys. If you’ve lived any amount of life, you know that valleys are where most of us spend more time than we’d like to admit.

The beautiful truth is this: God is not absent in the valley. He chooses to reveal Himself there.

When Scripture describes the Lord as the Lily of the Valley, it paints a picture of a Savior who meets us where we are, not where we pretend to be, and not where everything is put together.

He meets us right in the middle of the mess, the questions, the exhaustion, and the quiet prayers we don’t always know how to finish.

Photo by Irina Iriser

Lilies of the valley are known for their purity. White, gentle, unassuming. Christ, too, is pure and holy, yet He stepped into a broken world without hesitation. He wasn’t repelled by human weakness. He moved toward it.

And then there’s the fragrance.

A lily of the valley doesn’t overpower a room. Its scent is soft, almost unexpected. You don’t notice it all at once. You realize it’s there after it’s already changed the atmosphere. That’s often how God works in our lives – slowly, gently and without fanfare. Yet somehow, after spending time with Him, things feel lighter, calmer and different.

Maybe you’re in a valley season right now.

I am not talking about a dramatic crisis – just a long stretch of waiting, or healing  or learning how to trust God again after disappointment. If so, this name of Jesus is especially for you.

He is not standing above you, calling you to climb.
He is beside you, growing where you are.

The Lily of the Valley reminds us that God’s beauty shows up in places we least expect it. That even when life feels low, purpose is still unfolding. That holiness and tenderness can coexist. That God’s presence doesn’t always arrive with noise, but it always brings life.

So today, if your world feels quiet, heavy, or hidden, take heart.

The valley is not empty.
The Lily is already there.

Mervin Fitzgerald Matthew | Steps of Purpose

Standing on His Promises

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Photo by SHVETS production

Promise #1: God’s Promise of Presence

Hebrews 13:5 (KJV)
“Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.”

There are moments when loneliness isn’t about being physically alone, but about feeling unseen, unheard, or unsupported. You can be surrounded by people and still feel abandoned on the inside. It’s in those quiet, heavy moments that one of God’s most powerful promises speaks clearly – His promise of presence.

God does not promise a life without hardship, but He does promise something greater: He promises to be with us in every season, every valley, and every unanswered question.

What This Promise Meant Then

When the writer of Hebrews reminded believers that God would never leave or forsake them, he was speaking to people facing uncertainty, pressure, and hardship. Following Christ came with real cost. Fear and weariness were common companions.

This promise echoed words God had spoken before – to Moses, to Joshua, and to Israel in the wilderness. Each time, God didn’t say life would be easy. He said, “I will be with you.” That distinction still matters today.

What This Promise Means Now

Our struggles may look different, but the feelings are the same.

You may feel alone while waiting for answers, carrying unseen burdens, or doing the right thing without immediate results. In those moments, feelings can be convincing, but they are not always truthful.

God’s presence is not dependent on how strongly you sense Him. He is near even when He feels silent. The promise is not that you will always feel Him, but that He is always there.

Why His Presence Matters

When you truly believe God is with you:

Fear loosens its grip

Waiting becomes more bearable

Strength rises where you thought you had none

Loneliness no longer has the final word


You are not walking through this season alone. God is present right now, right where you are.

How to Stand on This Promise This Weekend

1. Acknowledge God Daily
Begin your day with a simple prayer: “Lord, help me remember You are with me today.”

2. Speak the Promise
When fear or doubt creeps in, say the verse aloud. God’s Word has power when spoken.

3. Don’t Mistake Silence for Absence
God often works quietly. Silence does not mean He has stepped away.

A Closing Reflection

If God feels distant right now, let this truth settle your heart: He has not left. He has not forgotten. He is still with you.

The same God who walked His people through the wilderness is walking with you today – faithful, steady, and unchanging.

In the next post on Monday we will explore God’s Promise of Peace –  a gift that remains even when life feels anything but calm.

Until next time, keep seeking, keep growing, and keep walking your God-given path.


Mervin Fitzgerald Matthew |Steps of Purpose

Oh How Much He Cares For you

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Photo by Pixabay

I listened to a song by gospel singer and evangelist Jimmy Swaggart on Sunday, and it lingered with me long after the music stopped.
The words were simple, yet they carried a truth many of us need to be reminded of:
“No one ever cared for me like Jesus; there’s no other friend so kind as He.”

Take a moment and really sit with that.
Not just as a lyric, but as a reality.

No one does and no one ever will care for you like Jesus. Absolutely no one!

So many of us spend our lives longing to be fully understood, fully accepted, fully loved. We look for it in people, in relationships, in approval and when those things fall short, our hearts grow weary. But Jesus offers something different. Something deeper.

Scripture tells us, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18).

That means when you feel unseen, overwhelmed, or worn down by life, He is not distant. He is near. He cares  personally and intimately.

The song goes on to say, “No one else could take the sin and darkness from me.” And that’s exactly what Jesus does. He doesn’t avoid our mess or wait for us to clean ourselves up. As Romans 5:8 reminds us, “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” His care reaches us at our lowest point and leads us toward healing and freedom.

When this truth settles into the heart, something begins to shift. The pressure to have it all together eases. The fear of being abandoned loses its grip. We begin to rest, knowing that even when others don’t understand, Jesus does.

And perhaps the most touching line of all is this:
“He did something no other friend could do.”
That’s the heart of the gospel. Jesus gives what no one else can – pardon, peace, purpose, and the promise that we are never alone.

So wherever you are today –  weary, searching, hopeful, or hurting… let this truth meet you gently:
No one ever cared and no one will ever care for you like Jesus.

And when you embrace that reality, you’ll find strength to keep going, courage to trust again, and peace that settles the soul.

Until next time, keep seeking, keep growing, and keep walking your God-given path.
Mervin Fitzgerald Matthew |Steps of Purpose

The Cracked Cup

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Photo by Rahime Gül @pexels.com

I poured myself a cup of coffee one morning. The mug looked perfectly fine. There were no chips or stains… nothing unusual. I placed it on the counter and went about what I was doing. A few minutes later, I noticed a thin line of liquid slowly spreading across the countertop.

At first, I thought I had maybe spilled a little when pouring. But when I lifted the cup, I saw it – a small crack running down the side. Nothing dramatic. There were no shattered pieces. Just a slow, steady leak.

What struck me most was this:
The cup didn’t empty suddenly. It drained quietly, almost unnoticed.

And that preached to me.

Not Everything That Drains You Breaks You Loudly

Sometimes we expect the things that weaken us to be loud, obvious, or dramatic. We think real danger comes with noise and clear warning signs. But in life, some of the deepest drains are silent.

It’s not always the explosion that empties you…sometimes it’s the slow leak. It’s not the major betrayal but the small resentment that sits unaddressed. It’s probably not the collapse of a relationship, but the small distance you ignore. Its probably not the dramatic fall from faith, but the quiet neglect of prayer day after day.

Here are some more examples of the quiet cracks:

Unresolved bitterness

Hidden jealousy

Unforgiven offenses

Quiet exhaustion

A heart carrying too much without rest


The reality is none of these shout or even demand attention, but every single one drains what once overflowed.

And the thing about a crack is this:
The longer it goes unaddressed, the wider it becomes.

God Can Fill You, But He Also Wants to Heal You

Many times we pray, “Lord, fill me again,” without ever asking God to show us where we’re leaking. We want a fresh outpouring of strength, joy, or peace, but we haven’t stopped to acknowledge the hidden wound that keeps draining it away.

But pouring more into a cracked cup doesn’t solve the problem. It only creates a bigger mess.

Psalm 147:3 says, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

The psalmist is not just talking about the breaks or the wounds others can see but  even the tiny hairline fractures of the soul, the ones we hide behind smiles, responsibilities, and “I’m okay.”

God mends the cracks in our lives before He restores to full capacity.

The Question Is Simple

Where is the quiet crack in your life?

A wound you’ve been ignoring because you “don’t want to talk about it”?

A relationship you’ve avoided mending because it’s uncomfortable?

A spiritual discipline you’ve let slip because you feel tired?

A rest you’ve needed but keep postponing because you’re “too busy”?


It’s not weakness to admit you’re leaking.
It’s wisdom.

God doesn’t expose cracks to embarrass us. He reveals them because He knows what He wants to pour into our lives next and He doesn’t want it wasted.

Final Reflection

Before asking God for overflow, ask Him to seal what’s been slowly draining you.
A healed cup can hold more.
A restored heart can receive more.
And a strengthened spirit can overflow again. ☕


Until next time, keep seeking, keep growing, and keep walking your God-given path.
Mervin Fitzgerald Matthew |Steps of Purpose