Every January 1 I wake up feeling like a brand-new person. This is the year I will finally become someone who stretches in the morning, drinks more water and prays without immediately wondering what’s for breakfast.
Quitter’s Day—the day most people officially abandon their New Year’s resolutions.
By January 9, however, the internet gently informs me that it is Quitter’s Day—the day most people officially abandon their New Year’s resolutions. And honestly? That checks out. Because by then, the gym bag is back in the cupboard, the prayer journal has exactly three heartfelt entries, and my phone has caught me Googling “Is quitting bad if you had good intentions?”
Quitter’s Day sounds dramatic, but it’s actually kind of comforting. There’s something deeply human about realizing, nine days in, that we may have overestimated ourselves.
New Year’s resolutions have a way of doing that. They come from desire—real desire—to be better, to be holy, to feel more alive. But they are also quietly rooted in the belief that God is waiting for a more polished version of me. Like grace is on hold until further notice.
By Quitter’s Day, most of us probably feel discouraged. Not just because we have failed, but because we think failure means something about our faith. That we aren’t serious enough or disciplined enough.
But God is not surprised by my 9 January self. He already knew exactly who He was working with.
God does not love your potential more than He loves your reality.
Here’s the thing we don’t talk about enough: God does not love your potential more than He loves your reality. He doesn’t wait for you to finally follow through before He draws close. He entered humanity knowing full well how often we quit things. Including Him.
The Christian life isn’t about self-improvement; it’s about self-surrender. And surrender assumes weakness. It assumes stumbling. It assumes that we will need mercy far more often than motivation.
Being human means wanting to change and also wanting to stay exactly the same. It means making resolutions with the best intentions and discovering—again—our limits. It means loving God sincerely and still hitting snooze on prayer because your bed feels warmer than sanctity.
Remember we’re disciples and fallen ones at that.
And God is not rolling His eyes at any of this. So maybe Quitter’s Day isn’t a failure. Maybe it’s a recognition of our frailty. Maybe 9 January is the day we stop pretending we’re superheroes and remember we’re disciples—and fallen ones at that.
What if our resolutions this year sounded less like productivity goals and more like prayer?
Instead of “I will pray every day for 30 uninterrupted minutes,” maybe it’s “I will turn toward God each day—and start again when I forget.”
Instead of “I will never struggle with this sin again,” maybe it’s “I will bring this struggle into the light sooner and ask for help faster.”
Instead of “This is the year I finally fix myself,” maybe it’s “This is the year I let God meet me where I actually am.” That’s not lowering the bar. That’s keeping grace within our reach.
He came because we couldn’t save ourselves.
Jesus did not come to help us optimize our lives. He came because we couldn’t save ourselves. He stepped directly into human inconsistency, human weakness, human quitting... and He stayed.
The saints didn’t become saints because they never failed at their spiritual goals. They became saints because they kept saying “yes” again and again and again. Often after failure. Often after embarrassment. Always through mercy.
Peter didn’t need a better resolution system after denying Jesus, quitting when it mattered most. He needed an encounter with forgiveness. And Jesus met him not with shame but with breakfast and a second chance. That’s the heart of our faith.
So if you’ve already quit something—welcome. You’re right on schedule. God is not disappointed; he’s present. Make resolutions if they help you. Structure can be a gift. Discipline can be holy. But don’t make them your savior.
This year, maybe the bravest resolution is to stay human. To stop performing holiness and start practicing honesty. To trust that God is far more interested in your heart than your streaks.
God never quits on us.
Because the Christian life isn’t about starting over once a year. It’s about starting again every single day. And the beautiful, ridiculous, hope-filled truth is this: God never quits on us—even on Quitter’s Day.
Originally published by EAUK. Republished with permission.
Peter Lynas oversees the advocacy team and the work of the Alliance across the four UK nations. He is passionate about faith in the public square and leads the Being Human project with Jo Frost. He previously worked as a barrister in Belfast before studying theology at Regent College in Vancouver, where he serves on the board. Peter is a regular media commentator, is married to Rose, has two daughters, and loves running.
The Evangelical Alliance in the United Kingdom is made up of hundreds of organisations, thousands of churches and tens of thousands of individuals, joined together for the sake of the gospel. Representing our members since 1846, the Evangelical Alliance is the oldest and largest evangelical unity movement in the UK. United in mission and voice, we exist to serve and strengthen the work of the church in our communities and throughout society. Highlighting the significant opportunities and challenges facing the church today, we work together to resource Christians so that they are able to act upon their faith in Jesus, to speak up for the gospel, justice and freedom in their areas of influence.
