There’s nothing like a New Year to reboot your life. Social media is full of lists of supplements, mindfulness practices, capsule wardrobes, skincare regimens, and more if you’re in search of ideas. This year, I found myself unexpectedly inspired by the life of the late President Jimmy Carter.

Carter is the first president I remember, though technically, he was the third during my lifetime. I remember seeing caricatures of his toothy smile in Mad magazine and hearing about his brother Billy and their family’s peanut farm. In the fall of 1980, I rushed home after school to watch the election results while my mother shook her head sadly as Reagan’s Republican party won.

My understanding of the politics of the 1980s is embarrassingly limited, so when President Carter passed away this winter at the age of 100, I was humbled to learn of all he achieved in his life away from the Oval Office.

During and immediately following his presidency, Carter was often cast as a "wimp" in the media—a narrative that stuck. Late-night comedians turned him into a punchline, ridiculing his toothy grin, his sweater-clad fireside chats, and his seemingly modest persona. In an era obsessed with strength and dominance, Carter’s quiet, thoughtful leadership was seen by some as weakness.

But hindsight has a way of peeling back layers of caricature to reveal something deeper. Carter was a man of great Christian faith, and he told a story about how his faith was tested after he lost an early gubernatorial race to segregationist Lester Maddox in 1966. He gained political insights, doubled down, and won office in 1970.

As President, he led the nation through economic stagflation and a gas crisis. Most notably, the Iran Hostage Crisis dominated his last year in office and contributed to his loss in 1980.

After he left the White House in defeat, Carter returned home to Plains, Georgia, where he found his beloved family business in debt and his confidence low. He started over with his wife, Rosalynn, by his side.

It would have been easy for Carter to retreat from the public eye, nursing the wounds of political and personal failure. Instead, he leaned into a different legacy—one marked not by power but by service. Over the next several decades, he wrote over 30 books, founded The Carter Center, and worked tirelessly as a mediator and humanitarian. He volunteered with Habitat for Humanity, taught Sunday School, and spent quiet evenings surrounded by his family.

In many ways, Carter’s post-presidency was the ultimate rebuttal to the idea of him as an ineffective leader. His steadfastness, humility, and quiet determination became his hallmarks, proving that strength doesn’t always roar.

Contrast this with the toxic masculinity that saturates so much of today’s political and cultural landscape. We live in an age of chest-pounding social media influencers and reactive, celebrity-style politics, where leaders are often measured by how loudly they dominate the room rather than the depth of their character.

Interviews with those who knew him—relatives, journalists, and politicians alike—paint a picture of a gentle, wise, imperfect man. Carter reflected on his personal and political failings and how his faith sustained him, even if it was regularly tested.

“God answers all prayers,” Carter was known to say. “But sometimes He says no.”

In an era of super-ego-fueled celebrity politicians, listening to retrospectives on Mr. Carter—who insisted on being called Jimmy for most of his life—is a time capsule of an era of humility, humor, and honesty.

It’s the dawn of a new year, traditionally a time for renewal and goal setting. Reaching for big dreams is tempting, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But the older I get, the more I reflect on private goals and quiet ways of "living the dream." I realize that a life out of the public eye can be as whole and rewarding as any life on display.

Today, the bar for measuring what it takes to be a good person seems low. Yesterday’s "good guys" seem straight out of the black-and-white era: Atticus Finch, George Bailey, Sheriff Andy Taylor. Men who fought for what was right, eschewed wealth and fame, and kept counsel with a small circle of trusted friends and family.

Count James Earl Carter Jr.—Jimmy—among those heroes.

Looking back at Carter’s century of life, I’m reminded to keep my expectations in check—perhaps not every prayer will be answered with a "yes," but sometimes the "no" clears the path for something better.

And perhaps the best way to honor a life like Carter’s is not through grand declarations but in daily acts of faith and service. As I consider the new year ahead, I’m reminded that goodness often grows in the quiet corners of our lives, where humility and purpose meet.

It’s there, in those quiet corners, that a legacy like Carter’s offers a map for the year ahead: not one marked by bold resolutions but by the steady pursuit of what matters most.