Transition has this way of sneaking up on you and bringing along a heavy dose of sadness at the most inconvenient times. Like… how am I about to cry in the middle of my workout? On the treadmill, of all places. It’s like you’re finally starting to gain ground, feeling like you’re getting your footing, and then, the grief hits. Out of nowhere.

What I’ve realized is that it’s the unpredictability of it all that gets to me. It’s the sudden waves of sorrow that come flooding in when I least expect them. Maybe it’s because I’m starting to make peace with where I am, and in doing so, I’m reminded of what it cost me to get here. Those quiet moments of clarity are sometimes bittersweet, and they come with this strange mix of grief and gratitude.

In this season of my life, I’ve found that the most beautiful thing is learning to feel those emotions fully. To just let them sit with me. To acknowledge the sorrow, the sadness, the grief, but also allowing joy to exist. the Bible talks about the power of lamenting. To lament means to passionately express grief or sorrow to God.

When I think about transition, I often picture it like packing up all my things and moving to a completely new place. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. And the hardest part? The fact that I’m never going to return to the place I was before. I’m saying goodbye to something, even if I don’t fully understand it yet. And honestly? That thought alone brings me some serious anxiety. Chiile, cause if you were anything like me I had some abandonment issues. Another story for another day…okay?

I hate moving. I think I’ve hated moving because it’s something I’ve had to do a lot of in my life. Growing up, we moved a lot. So while the actual process of packing up and shifting everything isn’t new to me, the idea of leaving behind a familiar space—whether that’s a home, a phase in life, or a mindset—always feels a little intimidating. That fear of the unknown, of venturing into a new chapter, is hard!

But what’s different is that I’ve learned to move with the changes, rather than resisting them. I’ve become more comfortable with moving as God moves. My faith has grown deeper. So packing up and moving doesn’t feel as scary as it used to be. The true challenge now isn’t the logistics of transition. It’s the reality that everything around you shifts because you’re no longer in the space you once were.

It’s a new kind of discomfort. The kind where the familiar doesn’t feel as familiar anymore while the new doesn’t seem as foreign. This may sound completely weird and/or confusing. As unsettling as that can be, I’ve come to see that the discomfort doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Sometimes, it’s a sign of growth. Of things being rearranged to make space. And that thought—though comforting—still doesn’t make the transitions any easier. But it helps. It also forces me to trust God with my future.

So, if you’re in a season of transition or in the unusual dichotomy of emotions. It’s okay to feel it all—the grief, the anxiety, the joy. The beauty is in the balance of it al. Keep moving. Keep finding your footing. Keep gaining ground. Also stop and see how far you’ve come- because you’ve made great progress.