See This Little Guy?

See this little guy?

It’s a daruma — a classic Japanese good-luck doll — except this one’s also a penguin. A daruma-penguin mashup, which feels about right for me. Jeremy and Kathleen brought it back from a recent trip to Japan, and it landed on my desk like it had something important to say.

The vertical writing on the left translates to daruma, and the large character across the front means dream — not “dream” as in what you had last night, but dream as in hope, goal, aspiration. The kind of dream that quietly follows you around and taps you on the shoulder every now and then.

Traditional darumas are symbols of perseverance and resilience. They’re usually weighted at the bottom, so when you knock one over, it rights itself. You can tip it, push it, even roll it around a bit — but it keeps popping back up.

It’s a physical reminder of a simple truth: fall down if you must, but don’t stay there.

One of the most interesting customs tied to darumas has to do with goals. When you set a goal, you color in one eye. Just one. The other eye stays blank until the goal is accomplished. Only then do you fill it in. Every time you look at the doll, that unfinished face reminds you: There’s still something you said you were going to do.

I love that.

It’s simple. It’s visual. And it’s honest.

So yes, I colored in one eye.

I have this little penguin daruma sitting on my desk now, quietly watching me work. Or maybe quietly daring me to keep working. It represents one very specific goal I have for 2026 — a dream I’m committed to seeing through.

Now here’s where this gets personal.

I may be retired from my job, but I am not retired from my calling.

That distinction matters.

There’s a subtle temptation that comes with retirement — or with any big life transition — to think in terms of winding down. To assume that the most meaningful work is behind us. To trade purpose for comfort and call it wisdom.

But that’s not how God tends to work.

Scripture is full of people whose most important chapters came later, not earlier. Moses didn’t step into his defining role until he was well past what most people would call “prime working years.” Abraham was still being asked to trust and move and obey long after the sensible window had closed. Even the disciples were constantly being reshaped, redirected, and stretched.

Calling isn’t a season you age out of.

If anything, calling becomes clearer with time — if we’re willing to listen.

That’s why 2026 matters so much to me.

I’ve decided that this is the year I step fully into what God has been shaping in me for a long time. Not halfway. Not cautiously. Not with one foot in and one foot out “just in case.”

Fully.

I’m not talking about hustle or proving anything or chasing significance. I’m talking about alignment — about saying yes to the work God has been nudging me toward and no to the distractions that dilute it.

That’s what this little daruma-penguin represents.

It’s not magic. It’s not superstition. It’s just a tangible reminder of intention.

Every time I see it, I’m reminded that perseverance isn’t dramatic. Most of the time, it’s quiet. It’s choosing to show up again. It’s refusing to quit on days when motivation is low and doubts are loud. It’s trusting that faithfulness — steady, unglamorous faithfulness — actually counts for something.

And maybe that’s the part I love most about the daruma tradition.

You don’t color in both eyes at the beginning.

You leave one unfinished.

You live with the tension.

You allow the reminder to sit there, patiently, day after day, asking the same gentle question: Are you still moving toward what you said mattered?

I am.

I’m all in.

Not recklessly. Not arrogantly. But deliberately.

I don’t know exactly what every step of this year will look like, but I know the direction. And I know the One who’s calling me forward. That’s enough to keep going — and to keep getting back up when I wobble.

So here’s to unfinished eyes, unfulfilled dreams, and the grace to persevere.

And here’s to 2026 — the year I stop circling the calling and finally step into it.

All the way.