End Of The Year Letter

I can hardly believe we are here, the last letter of 2025.

Hey Lovelies,

I can hardly believe we are here, the last letter of 2025.

Before I share what is on my heart, can I pause to simply say thank you? Thank you for opening these letters, for letting me walk into your inbox week after week, for allowing me to sit with you in both your quiet mornings and your heavy nights. Thank you for writing back, for sharing your testimonies, for letting me know that these words have met you in real moments of joy, fear, transition, and restoration.

When I started this blog, I had no idea what it would become, but somehow, through every devotional, every journal entry, every fictional moment, we have built something sacred here. Together, we have cried, prayed, and found God’s fingerprints in unexpected places. We have seen that even in the dark, light still comes.

And so I want to leave you with this promise as we close the year: you will rise again.

I know this not because it sounds pretty or poetic, but because I have lived it. I have been knocked down by grief, by disappointment, by seasons that stretched me until I didn’t know what was left of me. But one day, the grief softened into gratitude. One day, the pain stopped being the headline of my story and became a quiet, redemptive chapter.

Micah 7:8 says,

“Though I have fallen, I will rise.
Though I sit in darkness,
the Lord will be my light.”

Lovelies, this is more than poetry; it is prophecy. And today, I speak it over you: The season you thought would break you will not have the last word. The night will not last forever. The heaviness will not stay this heavy.

Hold on, even if all you can hold onto is one breath at a time. Morning is coming. Hope is coming. And when it does, you will rise stronger, softer, and more radiant than before.

And next year? Oh, next year, we will keep building together. We will pray, laugh, learn, and grow even more than we have this year. New letters are waiting to be written, new devotionals that will meet you right where you are, new stories to tell, and new moments of breakthrough waiting for us both.

So tonight, as you close the chapter on this year, lift your head. Whisper to your own heart: “I will rise again.” And believe it. Because the One who has carried you this far isn’t done with your story yet.

Here’s to rising together.
Here’s to the year ahead, full of light, healing, and holy surprises.

With all my heart,
Temitope Olusola (I LOVE YOU ALL)