In the New Year, Let’s Improvise!

The beginning of a new year often arrives with an unspoken pressure: to resolve, to perfect, to finally “get it right.” January invites us into narratives of resolutions, self-improvement, clarity, and clean starts. And, while reflection and intention are such meaningful practices, the temptation is to believe that transformation requires flawlessness, certainty, or control.

At Mile High Ministries, our work of Housing That Heals tells a different story. It is not necessarily linear; rather it is improvisational. Each day we accompany families and one another through complex, unfinished realities that are frequently marked by grief, fear, resilience, hope, and interruption. This work doesn’t usually fit into tidy resolutions.

Jazz Theology has offered us a compelling framework for entering 2026 without the burden of perfection.

Emerging from the Black freedom tradition—and shaped by thinkers such as James Cone, Willie James Jennings, and Jeremy Begbie—Jazz Theology teaches us that revelation happens in time, in relationship, and usually in dissonance. Cone reminds us that the blues tell the truth about suffering without surrendering to despair. Jennings describes improvisation as a work of the Spirit in which the Spirit is creating new possibilities for belonging amid fractured histories. Begbie teaches us that structure and freedom are not opposites. They are partners.

One of the most instructive elements of jazz is the blue note. The blue note is that bent, aching sound that feels slightly unresolved and out of place. The blue note is so interesting because it deepens the music rather than disrupt it. Theologically, it names sorrow without erasing joy and honors a consistent presence over the feeling of needing to be perfect and polished. In this way, it helps us to recognize the sacredness of an ordinary, imperfect life where we surrender the illusion of complete control.

As we enter this new year, perhaps the question to ask ourselves is not “How do we perfect our lives and our work?” but “How do we listen more deeply?” Jazz theology invites us to improvise faithfully, to support one another’s solos, and to trust that the Spirit keeps time beneath our uncertainty. Transformation, after all, often happens not in resolved measures, but in the grace-filled spaces where we learn to swing together… even with the blue notes.

This new year, may the God of the bent note and mercy,
teach us the courage of improvisation,
the patience to sit inside unresolved chords,
and the joy of finding each other on the beat.
Let our work be a living chorus.
Amen.