I have always loved the start of a new school year. Meticulously writing my full name on each and every Crayola, coordinating my Book Sox with the matching notebook color, and opening a fresh pack of pens (okay, I guess I am more of a lover of school supplies) were moments I spent most of my summer looking forward to. And the newness of it all—new teachers, new classmates, new routines—while terrifying was also a wonderful opportunity to hit the reset button. And I love a reset button.
Ready to buckle down and set healthy eating and exercise patterns? I’ve got to finish these twelve boxes of Girl Scout cookies before Sunday because Monday is a new week. Trying to spend less on frivolous things? I’ll wait until that credit card bill is paid because then my name is Miss Frugality. Struggling with a particular sin? Once I hit confession on Thursday, I am finally going to be done with that habitual sin for good.
I think many of us feel that way, hence why New Year’s is filled with resolutions (and gym memberships). We love that defining moment, a clear point in time we can point to and see a clean slate. On one hand, using the beginning of a week or year as a fresh start can be helpful. That designated marker can help us feel rejuvenated, and the shiny newness of it all can feel like we can finally leave old habits behind.
I don’t know about you though, but as good as my intentions are, life happens, and I inevitably fail. I shoot for working out regularly, but my daily exercise routine is thrown off by illness or busyness. I set my alarm, looking forward to my coffee and time with the Lord, but I sleep in instead of prioritizing my prayer time. I confess a reliance on screens, but then I scroll instead of playing with my kids. And when that happens, I feel defeated. The excitement I had and the effort I had put in feels wasted. So I decide to wait until the next time I go to confession or until Monday rolls around to try again.
Recently, I have been struggling with my commitment to daily prayer. Illness after illness (#SummerOfSickness2k25) has plagued our family, and the physical and mental toll of comforting sick kids and being stuck inside—not to mention what feels like my paid partnership with Clorox—has drained me. My habitual early mornings with Jesus have faltered, and I have struggled to get back into the routine. Each time I go to confession or adoration, I have a renewed energy to get back into my groove; a few days later though, a wave of exhaustion washes over me, and my resolve wavers. And instead of restarting the next day, I wait until I feel that “fresh start energy” to begin again.
Fr. Mike Schmitz says, “The hardest day to read your Bible is the day after the day you don’t read your Bible.” And isn’t it true? One of the Enemy’s most reliable tactics is to convince us that our mistake is insurmountable, that a misstep is an irredeemable failure, that perfection is the only way toward progress. Being a day behind on Bible in a Year or walking around with that same sin on our conscience weighs so heavily on us, especially when we were so determined to get it right. Next time, we think, I’ll do better. When X happens, I can start over.
I love what G. K. Chesterton said though: “If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.” In other words, if we decide we want to be better home cooks, we have to make subpar meals for a while. If we want to learn how to play the piano, we have to fumble through many songs before we can play a masterpiece. If we want to improve our spiritual lives, we can wake up early for our morning prayer routine—even if we failed to do so the day before, even if we keep getting distracted, even if we find ourselves dozing off. Because God sees our effort. Because God knows the loads we are carrying. Because if prayer is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.
Whatever we are waiting for a fresh start to do, I would encourage us to just go for it. Even if we exercise randomly on a Thursday afternoon when our daily morning exercise plans fail, let’s celebrate that. If we pick up our Rosary without committing to saying it every day, wonderful. Be grateful for the grace to choose well in that moment. Because while we can and want to do better in so many areas of our lives, any habit or skill begins with a single effort.
So as this new school year begins—whether you’re a student or the one driving the minivan—enjoy the newness of it all. But don’t punish yourself when the routines go awry, when mistakes are made, when resolutions fall short. God is calling us to do better, but He also sees our desires, our efforts, and the small steps we are taking. Besides, He is calling us to Him now, and He doesn’t want to wait until Monday.
