Soul Searching Sunday with Dashonia Marie — January 4, 2026

The first Sunday of the year: let your soul tell the truth.

Beautiful woman… I need you to pause right here. Because the new year has a way of pressuring us to perform. To post. To proclaim. To pretend we’re “so excited” while our soul is still trying to recover from what it survived last year. And if we’re being honest—some of us walked into 2026 smiling on the outside, but carrying silent heaviness on the inside.

So today, we’re not doing surface-level faith.
Today, we’re not doing “I’m fine.”
Today, we’re not doing resolutions with no revelation.

Today is Soul Searching Sunday.
And soul searching doesn’t mean you sit in shame and pick yourself apart. Soul searching is inviting God into the places you’ve been avoiding—so He can heal what you’ve been hiding. Because many women don’t need a new routine first… they need a new root. A new truth. A new surrender.

Scripture Focus (NLT): Psalm 139:23–24

“Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Point out anything in me that offends you, and lead me along the path of everlasting life.”

That scripture is not a threat. It’s a safety net.

Because God doesn’t search you to expose you—He searches you to restore you.
He searches the heart because the heart has been carrying things your mouth never had words for:

the grief you never processed
the disappointment you buried under “I’m strong”
the fear you keep calling “wisdom”
the loneliness you keep dressing up as independence
the relationship wounds you keep minimizing
the self-doubt you’ve learned to live with

And here’s the truth most women don’t want to admit out loud:
Sometimes the loudest thing in our life is our responsibilities… but the quietest thing is our soul.
And when your soul is ignored long enough, it doesn’t just stay quiet—it starts leaking.
In your attitude. In your choices. In your cravings. In your relationships. In your faith. In your peace.

Beautiful woman… I’m going to be transparent.
There have been seasons where I looked “together” but I was spiritually tired. I was praying, but still feeling empty. Helping everybody else, but privately needing help. Smiling, but secretly battling thoughts I didn’t want anyone to know I had. And I learned something the hard way:

You can’t heal what you refuse to name.
And you can’t grow if you keep lying to yourself about where you are.

So today, let’s start 2026 the right way—not by trying harder.
But by getting honest with God.

Soul Searching Questions for Your First Sunday

Sit with these slowly. Don’t rush them.

What has my soul been trying to tell me that I keep ignoring?
Where am I pretending to be okay because I don’t want to feel rejected or judged?
What am I carrying that God never told me to carry alone?
What do I keep running back to when I’m anxious—control, people, overthinking, isolation, old habits?
What is God asking me to surrender before I ask Him to bless anything new?

And sis… hear me clearly:
Soul searching is not self-condemnation. It’s self-awareness in the presence of a loving God.
You are not too messy for Him.
You are not too late for Him.
You are not too broken for Him.
You are exactly who He’s been waiting to meet—in truth.

A Word for Your New Year

Don’t make 2026 about being impressive. Make it about being free.
Free from pretending.
Free from people-pleasing.
Free from the shame cycle.
Free from the need to be chosen by people when you’ve already been claimed by God.

This year, we’re not just setting goals.
We’re letting God set us right.

Prayer (From Me to You)

Father, in the name of Jesus, I pray for every woman reading this. Search her gently. Heal her deeply. Expose the root without crushing her spirit. Replace anxiety with clarity, heaviness with peace, and confusion with direction. Give her courage to face herself with You—because nothing can be healed in the dark. Lead her into 2026 with wisdom, purity, strength, and a settled soul. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Now breathe.
This is your first Sunday of the year.
And you don’t have to carry last year’s weight into the next chapter.

— Dashonia Marie