Every January, something interesting happens. People start talking about resolutions. Gyms get crowded. Grocery carts fill with greens. Planners fly off the shelves. Everyone seems to be searching for a fresh start. There is nothing wrong with that. A resolution shows hope. It tells the world that a person wants to be better.
But over the years, I have noticed something. Resolutions rarely survive the cold wind of February. They fall apart, not because the goals were bad, but because the foundation was weak. There is a big difference between having a resolution and having resolve.
Resolve is grit. Resolve holds steady when the excitement wears off. Resolve keeps showing up when no one is clapping. Resolve keeps faith when the world feels heavy. Resolve pushes a man forward when he is bone tired. It is built, not declared. It is tested, not assumed.
And it is something we are losing.
I look around our country today, and I see comfort everywhere, but very little resolve. We chase convenience. We avoid discomfort. We shrink from conflict. We soften expectations for young men and then wonder why they buckle under pressure. We tell them to express themselves, but we never teach them to master themselves. We give them choices, but very little challenge.
Our forefathers would hardly recognize it.
They knew resolve in a way that feels almost foreign now. They did not sit around drafting feel-good resolutions for the new year. They were too busy stepping into history with nothing but courage and conviction in their pockets.
Picture the men gathered in Independence Hall. The room hot. The air heavy. The consequences real. When they signed their names to the Declaration of Independence, they did not think of it as a motivational moment. They knew they were marking themselves as enemies of the most powerful empire on the planet. They pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor. They understood resolve in a way modern culture often mocks.
The same is true of Washington and the soldiers who endured Valley Forge. These men were freezing. Many without shoes. Some without food. Others without hope. They could have retreated. They could have surrendered. Many believed they should. Yet they stayed. Something in them refused to quit. History does not remember them because they were comfortable. It remembers them because they had resolve that held strong in the worst conditions.
That kind of resolve became the backbone of this country. It shaped communities. It built families. It carried men through droughts, wars, depressions, and hard seasons of every kind. And it is still the kind of resolve we need today.
The Bible speaks to this same truth. Galatians 6:9 says, “Let us not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” You can feel the weight of that. It is not a verse about instant gratification. It is not a verse about chasing comfort. It calls us to perseverance in seasons when doing good feels unappreciated, unnoticed, or downright exhausting. It calls us to resolve.
The kind of resolve that built our forefathers.
The kind of resolve that shapes strong men.
The kind of resolve God grows in us when we allow Him to work.
These days, people often talk about how the world needs kinder men or softer men or more agreeable men. Those things have their place, but they do not build civilizations. They do not protect families. They do not stand against evil. They do not weather storms. What we need, now more than ever, are men who carry resolve deep in their bones. Men who know who they are and what they stand for. Men who honor commitments. Men who stay when the work gets hard. Men who understand that convenience is a trap and discipline is a blessing.
As we step into this new year, maybe it is time to rethink the idea of resolutions. Maybe it is time we stop treating January as a month for wish lists. Instead, we should treat it as a month to take inventory of our resolve. Who are we becoming? What are we willing to stand for? What are we willing to protect? What legacy are we building?
So be it resolved that we raise our standards, not lower them.
Be it resolved that our boys learn the beauty of discipline.
Be it resolved that we treat responsibility as a gift.
Be it resolved that we guard our homes with intention.
Be it resolved that faith is not an accessory but a foundation.
Be it resolved that our work, our words, and our lives carry weight.
Be it resolved that we remember the cost of the freedoms we enjoy.
Be it resolved that we choose purpose over comfort every single time.
This is the spirit I want to see return to Kendall County. The spirit of men who refuse to quit. Men who do not need applause to keep going. Men who do not seek shortcuts, but do the work right the first time. Men who carry the quiet strength our forefathers once relied on.
There will always be people who try to redefine masculinity as something smaller and weaker. Let them talk. The men who built this country were flawed, but they were courageous. They were steadfast. They were faithful. And they understood that resolve is not a feeling. Resolve is a choice. A choice made again and again, often in the dark, often without fanfare, often without thanks.
This new year is not about perfection. It is about direction. It is about calling ourselves higher. It is about getting back to the traits that have always made men strong. Resolve. Conviction. Honor. Self-control. Leadership rooted in service. Faith rooted in obedience.
So here is my challenge to you as we begin 2026. Do not settle for resolutions that fade. Choose resolve that lasts. Let your life reflect the same spirit that shaped the men who came before us.
Be it resolved that we become the kind of men our sons can admire.
Be it resolved that we become the kind of men our forefathers would recognize.
Be it resolved that we become the kind of men God can use.
Here’s to a year of strength, clarity, and purpose.
Be it resolved that we stand firm in all of it.
From the publisher: resolve is not a single decision, it’s a daily one. For what comes after the hard thing, read What You Do Next. And for the discipline that keeps a man ready for either, The Strength of Stillness is worth returning to.
