Why Try Again This Year Was Never Meant to Stand Alone
To try again is often misunderstood as optimism. But more often, it is an act of obedience. It is waking up and choosing faith with or without emotional certainty. It is praying when previous prayers appear unanswered. It is showing up again — not because you feel strong, but because you are still called.
Try Again This Year was written to meet readers in that exact place. The place where courage is quiet. Where hope must be chosen intentionally. Where starting over is less about excitement and more about courage. The pages do not rush the reader forward. They make space — for reflection, honesty, and the reality that growth is rarely linear.
Why a Single Book Was Not Enough
As I wrote, it became clear that one book could not carry the full weight of this journey. Because “trying again” is rarely a single decision. It is a rhythm.
There are seasons when trying again looks like returning to prayer without evidence. And other seasons when it looks like standing firm and asking boldly for what was promised.
And between these movements is a quieter necessity: learning to feel again — to acknowledge what has been carried before faith moves forward.
These movements — returning, feeling and asking — are not contradictions. They are companions.
A Series, Not a Moment
This is why Try Again This Year is not a standalone work. It is the opening posture of a larger conversation.
The journey continues with Pray Again, a work shaped around persistence in prayer — especially when silence, delay, or previous disappointment make prayer feel difficult. It is for those learning that prayer is not weakened by repetition; it is strengthened by faithfulness.
Alongside this movement is Permission to Feel Again, which names the interior work often overlooked — the courage to acknowledge grief, weariness, and longing without shame, so that prayer and obedience remain honest rather than performative.
And it moves toward Lord, Give Me This Mountain, a declaration of courage rooted in inheritance, promise, and audacity to ask boldly. This is the language of faith that no longer apologizes for asking. Faith that understands covenant. Faith that knows where it stands.
Together, these works form a progression:
Try again — even when beginning feels heavy
Feel again — when honesty is required before movement
Pray again — even when answers delay
Ask boldly — for what was spoken and promised
Not as steps to rush through, but as seasons to inhabit.
A Closing Word
This series exists because life rarely resolves in one chapter. Faith unfolds. Courage matures. Prayer deepens. If Try Again This Year met you in a quiet place, know this: it was always meant to lead you further — gently, faithfully, and without pressure.
This is not about striving. It is about staying.
And there is more coming.
