One Word - Follow

 Tend is not a flashy word

It’s not ambitious.

It doesn’t photograph well.

It won’t impress anyone.

Tend is the word of gardeners and nurses.

Of shepherds and parents.

Of people who show up again tomorrow.

Tending is repetitive.

It’s slow.

It requires attention.

And that’s exactly why it feels like the right word for me.

Tend assumes God is already at work

This is what finally convinced me.

Tending does not assume I am the healer.

It assumes God is already present.

The soil already holds possibility.

The wound already carries the work of healing.

The story is already unfolding.

My task is not to control outcomes or rush growth.

My task is simpler and harder:

To show up.

To pay attention.

To stay.

What we attend to, we tend

There’s a quiet truth hidden in this word.

We tend what we attend to.

What we give our attention to:

our bodies, our relationships, our communities, our interior lives, 

slowly takes shape. 

Not all at once. 

Not dramatically. 

But faithfully.

This year, I want to attend differently.

Less rushing.

Less performing.

Less proving.

More listening.

More noticing.

More staying with what is fragile and unfinished.

Tenderness is not weakness

Tend is inseparable from tenderness.

Tenderness is strength that has refused to harden.

It’s love that has learned restraint.

It’s courage that no longer needs armor.

In a world that trains us to move on quickly, tenderness stays.

This year, I want my life to grow softer, not smaller, but truer.

Less defended.

More open.

Tend is the work of a Haven

As our church moves toward becoming a Haven, 

this word feels less like a plan and more like a gift.

A haven isn’t something you build once.

It’s something you maintain.

A haven is kept safe by attention.

It’s sustained by care.

It remains a refuge only as long as it is tended.

That feels like the truest work of the church right now, 

not fixing the world, 

not saving it through force or certainty, 

but tending life with love.

A quiet intention for the year

So this is my intention:

To tend my body with patience.

To tend relationships with care.

To tend grief without rushing it.

To tend my work without squeezing the life out of it.

To tend my faith without forcing answers.

To trust that God is already here.

And that faithful presence is enough.

If you’re carrying a word this year, 

I hope it meets you gently.

And if you’re not

maybe this is a season to let a word find you.

For me, this year isn’t about doing more.

It’s about tending what has already been entrusted to me.

- Paul Dazet