2 Peter 3:18

Peter was one of Jesus' original twelve disciples — a fisherman who became a central leader in the early church. He wrote this letter late in his life, knowing his death was near, to a community of believers facing false teachers who mocked the idea that Jesus would ever return. His final charge to them isn't a complex theological argument — it's simply: keep growing. Growing in "grace" means deepening your understanding and experience of God's undeserved favor. Growing in "knowledge" means genuinely coming to know Jesus — not just facts about him, but an actual relationship. The verse closes with a doxology, a short phrase of praise giving all glory to Christ that reads like a final, joyful exhale from a man who had lived it.

Jesus, I want to know you more next year than I do today — not just know more about you, but actually know you. Grow my understanding of grace, especially on the days when I feel too far gone to deserve it. All the glory belongs to you, now and always. Amen.

The last thing a dying man chooses to say carries weight. Peter wrote these words knowing his time was short — and his final charge wasn't "behave better" or "try harder." It was simply: grow. That single word does heavy lifting. Growth implies that where you are right now is not where you'll always be. It implies movement, even when movement is slow and uneven and circling back on itself. It implies that faith is not a destination you arrive at and park — it's something that keeps unfolding, year after surprising year. Here's what strikes me about pairing "grace" and "knowledge" together: those two things don't always feel like natural companions. The more honestly you know God, the smaller you realize you are — and the more desperately you need grace to keep going. But that's exactly the point. Knowledge without grace produces pride. Grace without knowledge produces sentimentality. Peter wants both, held together. You don't have to become a theologian to honor this verse. You just have to be someone who refuses to know Jesus less next year than you do today — someone who keeps showing up, keeps asking, keeps growing.