Images of Pacific Palisades reduced to ash tell a story wealth couldn’t rewrite: luxury homes that cost millions now indistinguishable from the dirt beneath them. January 7, 2025, started like any other morning in Los Angeles until hurricane-force Santa Ana winds turned brush fires into an apocalypse. By the time the Palisades and Eaton fires were contained three weeks later, somewhere between 31 and 440 people were dead—the exact count still disputed—and more than 18,000 structures had been destroyed.[1]
What’s striking isn’t just the devastation. It’s how quickly we turned catastrophe into ammunition. Before the embers cooled, the blame wars had begun. Trump accused Governor Newsom of refusing to sign a non-existent “water restoration declaration.” Newsom’s office fired back that such a declaration was “pure fiction.” Misinformation spread faster than the flames themselves, and by the second week, Newsom felt compelled to launch CaliforniaFireFacts.com just to combat the lies.[2]
We couldn’t even mourn together anymore.
But the LA fires were only the opening act in a year that kept revealing what happens when we look for hope in all the wrong places. By December, 2025 has become a case study in misplaced trust—a twelve-month litany of saviors that failed us, leaders who disappointed us, and solutions that proved hollow. The question isn’t whether we struggled this year. The question is: what do our struggles reveal about where we’ve been placing our hope?
When Security Becomes an Idol
The LA fires exposed something deeper than infrastructure failure, though the empty Santa Ynez Reservoir and failing hydrants certainly revealed that.[3] They exposed our fundamental belief that wealth can insulate us from catastrophe. Pacific Palisades, where homes routinely sell for eight figures, burned just as completely as working-class Altadena. Fire doesn’t respect property values.
Security is a legitimate need. God designed us to seek safety and provision. But somewhere between prudent preparation and obsessive control, security becomes an idol—something we trust to do what only God can do.
The fires called that bluff. Climate scientist Daniel Swain described California’s “oscillation back and forth between states”—drought to deluge, dry to wet—creating the exact conditions that make catastrophic fires inevitable.[4] The very ground beneath our feet refuses to stay predictable. What we thought was solid keeps shifting.
This is the gospel’s ancient diagnosis: every human attempt to build security apart from God eventually becomes rubble. Not because God is vindictive, but because He designed us to depend on Him. When we make created things into ultimate things, we’re building on sand. The storms will come. The question is what we’ve built on.
When Political Solutions Become Saviors
September 10, 2025, became America’s latest day of political violence. Charlie Kirk, the 31-year-old conservative activist and co-founder of Turning Point USA, was shot in the neck while speaking at Utah Valley University. He died almost instantly. Within hours, more than 3,000 people had witnessed the assassination, and within days, the partisan blame cycles were in full swing.[5]
Kirk’s assassination wasn’t isolated. It was the violent crescendo of a year marked by escalating political violence: two Minnesota legislators and their spouses killed in June, Pennsylvania governor Josh Shapiro’s home targeted by arson in April, UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson shot in December 2024.[6]
Within days of Kirk’s death, the weaponization was complete. The right blamed “radical left” rhetoric. The left blamed right-wing extremism. His memorial became a partisan battleground. People were fired for their social media comments. Florida’s education commissioner warned teachers that “disgusting statements” about the assassination could cost them their licenses.[7]
Here’s what the cycle reveals: we’ve made politics into a functional savior. Not just important—ultimate. We’ve convinced ourselves that if our side wins, we’ll finally have the security, justice, and flourishing we crave. This kind of thinking doesn’t just distort politics—it breeds the very violence we claim to oppose.
Political engagement matters. Christians should care about justice, advocate for the vulnerable, and participate in the public square. But when politics becomes our primary hope for human flourishing, when we believe the right election or policy can save us, we’ve crossed from civic duty into idolatry. And idols always demand blood.
When Leaders Fail Us
April 21, 2025—Easter Monday—brought news that stopped the Catholic world: Pope Francis had died. Within hours, more than 50,000 people had gathered at St. Peter’s Basilica. By the time his lying in state ended, over 250,000 had come to pay respects.[8]
Less than three weeks later, white smoke appeared over the Sistine Chapel. Cardinal Robert Prevost of Chicago became Pope Leo XIV—the first American pope in history.[9] The succession was orderly, even beautiful. But it couldn’t hide a deeper question: what happens when the leaders we trust disappoint us?
The same leadership vacuum echoed through secular politics. Trump’s second term brought radical institutional disruption: DOGE led by Elon Musk, mass federal layoffs, attempts to eliminate entire agencies.[10] Whether you saw this as necessary reform or dangerous chaos, the message was clear: the old institutional authorities can’t be trusted.
Here’s the pattern: we elevate leaders, invest them with near-messianic expectations, then feel betrayed when they prove human. But every human leader—no matter how gifted, no matter how sincere—will eventually fail us.
This isn’t cynicism about leadership. It’s realism about humanity. Kings disappoint. Popes die. Presidents change. The only leader who never fails is Christ.
What the Gospel Says to Our Exhaustion
So where does that leave us as we close out 2025? If political solutions fail, if leaders disappoint, if our carefully constructed security crumbles—where do we turn?
The gospel’s answer isn’t more willpower or better strategies. It’s a different foundation entirely.
Scripture diagnoses our problem with precision: “The purpose in a man’s heart is like deep water” (Proverbs 20:5). What drives us operates beneath conscious awareness. We don’t naturally see the functional saviors we’re trusting—the unconscious beliefs that if we just had enough money, the right leader, the perfect policy, we’d finally be okay.
This is why behavior modification doesn’t work. We can’t just try harder to stop anxiously checking our portfolios or compulsively following political news. The issue isn’t the behavior—it’s what’s driving the behavior. It’s the deep belief that our safety depends on our wealth, our flourishing depends on our political outcomes.
The gospel addresses us at this level. Christ doesn’t just tell us to trust God more; He gives us a new heart that actually can trust God (Ezekiel 36:26). For believers, the struggle isn’t a corrupt heart—it’s the flesh, the old programming still operating on false beliefs about where security and significance come from.
Transformation happens when we expose these counterfeit sources of life and replace them with gospel truth. When markets crash, we don’t need better investments—we need to remember Christ is our true treasure. When political outcomes disappoint, we don’t need better candidates—we need to remember we’re citizens of a kingdom that can’t be shaken. When leaders fail, we don’t need better leaders—we need to worship the King who reigns forever.
This isn’t escapism. The gospel doesn’t tell us to stop caring about security, politics, or leadership. It tells us to stop making them ultimate.
Looking Ahead: 2026 and the Work of Real Hope
As we turn toward 2026, the question isn’t whether we’ll face new crises. We will. The question is what foundation we’ll face them from.
Real hope doesn’t come from naively believing next year will be easier. It comes from building on the one foundation that earthquakes can’t shake: Christ and His finished work. When your security rests in Christ rather than your circumstances, market crashes become painful but not devastating. When your identity is rooted in being God’s beloved child rather than your political tribe’s approval, election losses become disappointing but not catastrophic.
This kind of transformation requires learning to read Scripture in a way that addresses what actually drives us. We’ve developed a method called “Reading Below the Waterline” specifically for this purpose—helping believers expose the unconscious beliefs and functional idols that operate beneath awareness, then replace them with gospel truth.
We’re also launching “Voices of Grace” in January—true-to-life stories of how the gospel breaks into ordinary struggles: the parent facing provision worries, the worker confronting ethical compromise, the wounded soul needing forgiveness, the believer learning trust through hardship. These stories remind us the gospel isn’t theoretical—it’s the living reality that transforms how we face every struggle.
Because here’s what 2025 taught us: we’re going to keep looking for hope in all the wrong places until we learn to find it in the right one. The good news is that Christ is patient with our wandering. He keeps calling us back. He keeps offering Himself as the foundation that actually holds.
The invitation for 2026 is the same invitation the gospel has always extended: come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Not better circumstances. Not easier times. Not perfect leaders or foolproof security. Just Himself. And in a year like 2025, we’re reminded again why that’s exactly what we need.
Questions for Reflection
- Looking back at your own struggles in 2025, what were you functionally trusting to give you security, peace, or hope? Where did you discover those things couldn’t deliver?
- The article suggests we often elevate good things (security, political outcomes, leaders) into ultimate things. What’s one area where you might be making something good into something ultimate?
- How might the gospel’s promise of transformation “below the waterline”—at the level of unconscious beliefs and functional idols—change the way you approach ongoing struggles in your life?
- As you look toward 2026, what would it look like practically to build your hope on Christ rather than circumstances? What specific fears or anxieties need to be brought into the light of gospel truth?
Prayer Points
- Confession: Acknowledge where we’ve made created things into ultimate things this year—security we couldn’t maintain, political outcomes we couldn’t control, leaders who disappointed us.
- Gratitude: Thank God for His patience with our wandering, for the ways He’s proven faithful even when we’ve looked for hope in all the wrong places.
- Transformation: Ask the Spirit to expose what operates below the waterline—the unconscious beliefs driving our fears and hopes—and to align our souls with the new heart He’s given us.
- Vision for 2026: Pray for grace to build on Christ as the foundation, to find in Him the security, peace, and hope we’ve been seeking elsewhere.
[1]“January 2025 Southern California wildfires,” Wikipedia, accessed December 5, 2025, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/January_2025_Southern_California_wildfires.
[2]“Palisades Fire,” Wikipedia, accessed December 5, 2025, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palisades_Fire.
[3]Ibid.
[4]Tim Stelloh et al., “California wildfires: What we know about L.A.-area fires, what caused them, who is affected and more,” NBC News, January 30, 2025, https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/california-wildfires-what-we-know-palisades-eaton-los-angeles-rcna188239.
[5]“Assassination of Charlie Kirk,” Wikipedia, accessed December 5, 2025, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Assassination_of_Charlie_Kirk.
[6]“33 hours: A timeline of Charlie Kirk’s shooting and the search for a suspect,” NPR, September 12, 2025, https://www.npr.org/2025/09/12/nx-s1-5539285/charlie-kirk-shooting-manhunt-suspect-custody-timeline.
[7]“What to know about the aftermath of Charlie Kirk’s assassination,” PBS News, September 15, 2025, https://www.pbs.org/newshour/nation/what-to-know-about-the-aftermath-of-charlie-kirks-assassination.
[8]“Death and funeral of Pope Francis,” Wikipedia, accessed December 5, 2025, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_and_funeral_of_Pope_Francis.
[9]“A timeline in events: From the death of Pope Francis to the election of Pope Leo XIV,” CMW, May 9, 2025, https://www.c-mw.net/a-timeline-in-events-from-the-death-of-pope-francis-to-the-election-of-pope-leo-xiv/.
[10]“2025 in the United States,” Wikipedia, accessed December 5, 2025, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2025_in_the_United_States.
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