These days, there is a lot to take in.

And alongside everything happening around us in the world, life continues to shift in personal ways we don’t always expect.

Some changes we welcome. Some we would never choose. Many arrive without much warning, asking us to adjust before we feel ready. Over time, I’ve come to see that change is not just something that happens to us. It is something we move through. The truth is, often we are moving through more than we realize.

In my work, I walk with people through all kinds of transitions. Weddings and beginnings. Losses and endings. Moments of healing. Moments of unraveling. Some changes are chosen. Others are not. Some feel exciting. Others feel disorienting, painful, or confusing. One thing I’ve noticed is that even the changes we long for require adjustment. Even the “right” next step can carry a sense of loss.

A few years ago, I found myself in the middle of a significant transition of my own. Serving as a pastor in a denomination with an itinerant system, I was moved from one congregation to another. I finished in one place on June 30th and began in the next on July 1st. The churches were 250 miles apart.

There was no pause. No space to land. Just a quick shift from one life into another.

I remember feeling exhausted, disoriented, and inadequate. I told myself I should be handling it better. I pushed through. I worked harder. I tried to adjust as quickly as possible.

What I didn’t understand at the time was that I was grieving. I was grieving the community I had left, the familiar rhythms of my life, and the version of myself that developed at my “old” church. At the same time, I was trying to build something entirely new with new people in a new environment.

No wonder I felt like a stranger in my own life.

Years later, I experienced another transition. This time, it was one I chose. After 18 years in local church ministry, I felt a clear inner knowing that it was time to step away. It was the right decision… and it was also one of the most disorienting seasons of my life.

Even when we know something is right, that doesn’t mean we know what comes next.

There was a long stretch of time where I didn’t have answers. The identity I had carried for most of my life no longer fit and the next chapter hadn’t yet fully revealed itself. It was an in-between space. I was in-between who I was and who I would become.

I’ve come to understand this space as its own kind of territory. A threshold. A crossing. A place where something is ending, but something else has not fully begun. A liminal space.

Our culture is not particularly patient with transition. We are encouraged to move on, stay busy, keep going, and look ahead. In my experience, though, real change doesn’t work that way. We need to give ourselves space to let go, not know, and gradually become.

What I needed in those seasons ~ and what I see so many people needing ~ was permission.

Permission to say, “This is a big change, and I need time.”

Time to grieve. Time to rest. Time to feel disoriented without assuming something is wrong. Time to not have everything figured out. Time to live inside the questions.

There is something human about wanting to move quickly through discomfort and get to the resolution. To arrive at the “new beginning.” I’ve come to believe, though, that the in-between space is not something to get through as quickly as possible. It is something to be lived.

Something is happening there, even if we can’t yet name it. Old identities are loosening. New ways of being are beginning to take shape. A different voice begins to emerge… one that feels more like our own. But we don’t hear that voice if we rush past it.

Looking back now, I can see that those seasons changed me in ways I couldn’t have planned. They softened me. They clarified what matters. They led me into the work I am doing now, work that feels more aligned with who I am. I couldn’t have imagined this version of my life from where I was standing then. I had to move through the uncertainty to find it.

Change is not something we master. It is something we learn to be with, again and again. If we allow it, it can become a place of growth, healing, and unexpected possibility.

So wherever you find yourself right now ~ in the middle of a transition, coming out of one, or sensing one on the horizon ~ you might ask yourself:

What is changing in my life right now?
What am I being asked to let go of?
What feels uncertain or not yet formed?

And perhaps most importantly:

What would it look like to give this change the time and care it deserves?

---

If you find yourself in a season of transition and long for a place to sort through what is shifting, I would be honored to walk alongside you. This is the kind of listening space I offer through spiritual direction. You don’t have to navigate the in-between alone. I would love to connect.

***********

Kristabeth Atwood is a spiritual director, writer, and celebrant who creates spaces for reflection, connection, and meaning in life’s transitions. You can reach out to learn more or schedule a discernment session with Kristabeth.