What if George Bailey never made it home? Making New Year’s Resolutions that matter.

What if George Bailey never made it home?

The protagonist in Frank Capra’s “It’s a Wonderful Life” should have changed history. He was supposed to travel the world, “design new buildings, plan modern cities.” Instead, as the film’s narrator revealed, “George fought the battle of Bedford Falls,” the “crummy little town” he had sought to escape from when he was a child. With his nose to the grindstone, Jimmy Stewart’s iconic character never became the globetrotting personage he dreamed of. He never even made it out of Bedford Falls.

We all know how the story ends. (If you don’t, watch the movie.) After seeing what life would have looked like if he hadn’t been born, George realized he was rich — “the richest man in town,” in fact — not because he had money, but because he had family. “No man is a failure who has friends,” he was reminded as the many people his life had touched surrounded him in his family home. It’s one of the most inspiring moments in cinema history.

But what if George Bailey never made it home? What if he had followed through with suicide?

What if he hadn’t seen how wonderful his life was until it was too late?

You and I are more like George than we are willing to admit. Warped and frustrated by real life, we project future images of “better” versions of ourselves. “I’d like to be a kinder person,” “I’d like to write a book,” “I’d like to start my own company,” etc., etc. On and on we go — until life itself (our present reality) becomes a nuisance, an obstacle in the way of an unrealized dream. We deceive ourselves into believing that once we achieve Goal X, we will finally be happy. Every day until then makes us feel more like a failure.

The problem with George Bailey is not that he had dreams; it’s that he didn’t know how to manage his disappointment. “I want to do something big and something important,” he confessed early in the film. When that didn’t happen (at least not by his definition of “big and “important”), he staggered to the brink, becoming angry, miserable, distraught, and suicidal.   

No greater tragedy exists than to waste one’s life — to spend one’s whole life saying, “One day I will … fill in the blank,” until, at last, death gains the upper hand — to squander away one’s final moments with the gnawing regret, “I would have been happy if only I had… .” We cannot spend our whole lives looking ten years into the future, pinning our hopes on an always distant form of ourselves. Down through the decades, the ghost of George Bailey calls to us: “This is your life. Are you who you want to be today?”

In George’s case, he wanted to change the world (and we applaud the ambition) but lost sight of his wife, kids, friends, and the many blessings surrounding him. At the start of the film, he called the antagonist, Mr. Potter, “a warped, frustrated old man” because he viewed humans as cattle. Later, however, Mr. Potter turned the insult on its head: “Look at you,” he said to George. “You used to be so cocky! You were going to go out and conquer the world! … What are you but a warped, frustrated young man?” In one of the most disturbing scenes, George treats his family like cattle, barking orders in a terrifying fit of rage. 

What went wrong? This common trope in which the hero embodies characteristics of the bad guy (e.g., Esther revealing to Ben-Hur that he has become like Messala) occurs when the hero becomes so preoccupied with realizing an all-consuming goal he can no longer detect the unraveling of his character. 

As we make our goals for the new year, we must guard against that fate at all costs. How many of us started with grandiose dreams to accomplish big, important things? How many quickly gave up on leading meaningful lives when those dreams came undone?  

We may never achieve the goal of magically becoming a “better” person. It's even less likely that we will “conquer the world.” But, perhaps, if we focus on how we can love our family and friends better today, then tomorrow, and then the next day, we will eventually discover that we have, in fact, lived meaningful (albeit ordinary) lives. As Stewart said of his beloved classic, “It’s simply about an ordinary man who discovers that living each ordinary day honorably, with faith in God and a selfless concern for others, can make for a truly wonderful life.”

Life is short, and none of us are guaranteed tomorrow. We must not delay writing our legacies waiting for a (seemingly) better, more opportune time. The clock is already ticking. The time for crafting legacies we can be proud of is now. It’s today. As we look forward to 2025, may we each keep this lesson in mind.

Rather than jumping from here to there, let’s devise practical goals that guide us one step at a time. Let’s enjoy the views God has granted us to see at every stop. And above all, let’s ensure that, in the name of pursuing our dreams, we never lose sight of the true riches that surround us.