8 Resolutions Jesus Would Be Happy WithSample

1. Resolve to Admit You Need God

It’s January again. The season of fresh starts and well-intentioned goals. You know: new year, new me. We write down resolutions, drink more water, get up earlier, eat less sugar, and finally start journaling.

But let’s be honest for a minute.

How’d last year’s list go? Or the one before that?

I’m not saying this to guilt-trip anyone. My “cut out carbs” resolution didn’t even make it to lunchtime. The truth is, we’re all hungry for change, for a better version of ourselves. But the kind of transformation Jesus invites us into isn’t built on self-discipline alone. It starts somewhere far more surprising.

Jesus opens His most famous teaching, the Sermon on the Mount, with a sentence no motivational speaker would dare use, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 5:3, NIV)

Let that sit for a second.

He’s not congratulating those who’ve nailed their spiritual performance or hit their yearly Bible reading goals. He’s calling blessed the people who feel like spiritual beggars, empty, weak, unsure, longing.

In Jesus’ day, blessings were reserved for the rich, powerful, and impressive. The religious elite believed blessing came from moral excellence. The empire tied it to wealth and control. But here comes Jesus, flipping the whole value system upside down.

He says that the ones who get the kingdom... are the ones who know they need it most.

The word He uses for “poor” in Greek, ptōchos, is vivid. It means crouched over, utterly dependent, hands open. Think of a person too weary to fake it anymore. That’s the posture Jesus blesses. Not pride. Not perfection. Just need.

And we get this, don’t we?

We’ve all had those moments, on the bathroom floor after the panic attack, in the car after the breakup, when the job falls through, or when the spiritual high wears off and we’re left wondering if we’re just faking our way through faith.

Jesus is saying that the moment you come to the end of yourself, the kingdom begins.

The doorway into divine life is not achievement but need. Spiritual poverty is not a punishment; it’s the prerequisite for participation.

Not after we pull it together.

Not once we finally "feel spiritual."

But right there, in the ache.

Jesus isn’t handing out gold stars. He’s announcing a new reality, one where blessing flows not from having it all, but from having nothing but Him.

Spiritual poverty isn’t weakness to hide; it’s soil where grace grows.

As St. Augustine said, “The poor in spirit are those who see that they are nothing and that they have nothing of their own.”(1) That’s not self-hatred. It’s self-honesty. It’s finally quitting the hustle of trying to prove ourselves to God and others.

The kingdom of heaven doesn’t start at the top of the ladder; it starts at the bottom.

Where we stop pretending.

Where we bring our real selves.

Where we say, “God, I can’t do this on my own.”

And notice: Jesus doesn’t say, “Theirs will be the kingdom.” He says, “...theirs is the kingdom.” (Matthew 5:3, NIV)

Right now. Present tense. No waiting period.

This is the radical invitation of Jesus: start here. Start with your need.

Bring your hunger, your hollowness, your hands wide open. That’s the doorway.

To be poor in spirit is not to wallow in shame. It’s to live wide open to grace, breathing it in like oxygen. So what if this year, instead of chasing another version of ourselves, we chased more of Him? What if we made peace with our poverty and let it lead us home?

Prayer

Jesus, I come to You with empty hands. Not trying to impress, not pretending to be more than I am. I confess my need, my hunger, my weakness, my weariness. Teach me to see my poverty not as a flaw, but as the very place where Your kingdom begins.

Reflection

Where do you most feel your need today—an area you can’t fix or control? What would it look like to bring empty hands to Jesus there?

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(1) Augustine of Hippo, Expositions of the Psalms, trans. Maria Boulding, vol. 1, Psalms 1–32, ed. John E. Rotelle