Transition is a loaded topic and one that I am well versed in. When moving from one thing or place to another, the process can be quick or seemingly unending. In my story, I have experienced both with varying degrees in between. None of them, however, have been easy; yet all of them have been beneficial. Good and growth along the way have been the end results of the processes of transition.

Transition is deeply personal; it looks different for each person walking through it. A couple, and a family even, can journey along the same road of transition and it look completely different for each one. There have been times where tears were the currency of survival and questions were the markings of time. My feet have trudged through hard, difficult seasons where the burden in my hands could only be shared with a few, while uncertainty was the unwelcome constant. My hands have held little ones who didn’t have the words to articulate the big feelings of the moment. In these seasons, breathing feels like a challenge and faith can wear super thin. Some transitions begin heart level deep with God doing a work so personal that each breath feels like it stings of heartbreak. In these times, relying on God’s goodness and his track-record of faithfulness takes EVERYTHING.

One thing is certain; there is always more to the story.

This is true for the observer as well as the participant. Frequently, only a portion of what’s really happening is visible. Grace becomes paramount as we are all on different planes of our journey. The one going through transition can often be blinded to the present circumstances, making it feel like the current season will never end. There is hope though. We see it in farming as well as in Scripture.

Those who sow in tears shall reap with joyful shouting.

Psalm 126:5

There is a time for everything… He has made everything beautiful in its time.

Ecclesiastes 3:1,11

Some seasons end by walking out of one room and stepping into another room as soon as your foot clears the threshold. This happens quickly, sometimes painful like a band-aid being ripped off with the healing closely following. Other seasons end with a walk down a LONG corridor that may or may not have other doorways along the way. As you continue toward the door, you realize that the corridor is a season of its own; a suspension between one season ending and a new season beginning. This space is often dark, hard, isolating, and maybe hidden in a manner of speaking. Sometimes, the lights are dim, it might be drafty and seem unending, but it leads somewhere - time has proven that. The truth is, the longer we journey, the more acquainted we become with transition. A pastor friend of mine spoke a phrase repeatedly that stuck, “Get comfortable with being uncomfortable.” This is how I feel about transition. It’s uncomfortable, annoying at times, and definitely presses my buttons. However, it’s necessary, healing, growing, and through it, I end up a better me than when it began.

I believe that God gives us grace in whichever season we find ourselves. This grace is fortifying and strengthening, allowing us to remain steadfast for the duration that is necessary where our flesh would otherwise check-out pronto.

Just like we see in nature, the rains and winds will usher in the change of season, bringing transition. This shift can bring challenge and force us to pack up what worked during our past season. But take heart, the new season will have a new set of tools that will equip you for what is coming. As we see the leaves changing and the temperatures dropping, we are reminded that seasons don’t last forever. If you are currently navigating transition and sowing seeds of tears, be encouraged. There is a day coming, even if you don’t see it, where there will be growth. Something is coming; a harvest that will bring a song of joy.