Transitions: Moving from Turmoil to Trust
Transitions can cause upheaval and unrest, even if they lead to pleasant things. Can we trust that we are never alone in the transitions of life?
Lately, I have been thinking about transitions. Maybe we all have? In November, our country faces the possibility of a transition of power. One of the primary questions of the candidates is whether they will accept the result of the election–whether a peaceful transition of power is possible despite which candidate wins.
We use the word “transition” in every phase of life. We transition to solid food as an infant, transition out of naps as a toddler, transition to a new school as a kid, transition to a new job as an adult, transition to a down-sized house as an aging person, and transition to death at the end of life.
As Christians, we believe we live in an Age of Transition, when the Kingdom of God is already here and also is not yet fully here. We believe we are being made into the likeness of Jesus–the giant transition of our hearts, minds, souls, and embodied lives. Transitions can feel fundamentally uncomfortable, even if they lead to good things.
I am beginning a new transition. In April of 2026, almost two years from now, I will officially transition from my role as Diocesan Bishop of the Diocese of Churches for the Sake of Others (C4SO) into a new phase of life, and the diocese will transition to the care, guidance, and support of a new bishop.
Transitions Begin with an Ending
I have been reading Transitions: Making Sense of Life’s Changes by William Bridges because of my own circumstances. He has helped shape my approach to the transition of retirement. But his approach to transitions can help us all since transitions fill so many parts of our human experience. I am grateful for the following framework from Transitions.
In our haste to move on, we can sometimes forget that to transition, we must first let go of the old thing. Sometimes that thing is a role or an identity. Sometimes we must let go of a way of life. Whether you are transitioning from something bad or something good, it is very likely you will feel disorientation in the transition. Whether you need to move on from a difficult relationship or leave home for a college you have dreamed about, there is a familiar way of life that is left behind. So often the disorientation necessitates grief.
We are people of the resurrection, and so it should not come as a surprise that no new time in life is possible without the death of an old season. And, of course, it often feels like a surprise because the death of something we love, or at least are used to, seems like a final ending. But in fact, transitions begin with an ending, and death can lead to life. To gain, we must first give up because the ending clears the ground for a new beginning.
New Beginnings Pass Through a Neutral Zone
We live in the classic liminality, the threshold of entering The New. The old is gone, or at least is going, and the new has not yet appeared. I think of it as the time before the sunrise, when the night is clearly over, and the sun has not yet appeared. The sky is light, but without color, and if you are waiting for the sun to rise, it feels like forever.
The invitation in the moment of liminality is to create space for doing inner work. This in-between, neutral zone moment is where we pause, think, consider, discuss, and pray as we unlearn old self-images and take on new ones. Surrender and trust are core to the neutral zone.
I am learning to surrender and trust more deeply. My retirement announcement starts a carefully prepared process of selecting, electing, consecrating, installing and training a new Diocesan Bishop. This in-between will likely feel like the light of pre-dawn, where following a thoughtful process will seem indirect and unimpressive. Yet we are all pilgrims together in this journey, called to surrender and trust, even while the sun has not yet risen.
Make a New Beginning
While we hang on to our basic vision and values during a transition, we also begin to live into the new reality. New beginnings are birthplaces of hope and creativity. They are the places to dream of improved structures and processes, new goals and strategies.
The times of dreaming and evaluation also carry normal anxieties and confusion. What do we keep? What is core to our identity? What can change? What needs to be tossed out? And how do we answer these questions faithfully? John Wimber suggests that faith is spelled R-I-S-K. Because we are secure in Christ, there is room for questions, and there is room for risk.
John O’Donohue addresses these soul-questions in his poem (excerpt), For a New Beginning.
Though your destination is not clear
You can trust the promise of this opening;
Unfurl yourself in the grace of beginning
This is at one with your life’s desire
Awaken your spirit to adventure
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;
Soon you will home in a new rhythm,
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.
Receive God’s Peace Through All of It
God does not leave us to navigate life’s transitions alone. In fact, he promises the peace of his presence in the transitions. As you read these promises of Jesus, and the following benediction, what word or idea sparks faith in you?
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. (John 14:27, NIV)
Peace is what I leave with you; it is my own peace that I give you. I do not give it as the world does. Do not be worried and upset; do not be afraid. (John 14:27, ERV)
I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart! And the peace I give isn’t fragile like the peace the world gives. So don’t be troubled or afraid. (John 14:27, NASB)
Hang on to a word or idea that sparks faith in your time of transition and can serve as an anchor for faith and an antidote to fear.