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Some transitions arrive slowly, giving us time to prepare. Others hit unexpectedly, knocking us off balance and forcing us to decide: will we cling to fear, or step forward in faith?
One of the most unexpected transitions in my adult life happened in March 2007, the day my husband and I were headed to close on our first home. We had planned that day down to the minute. My husband met me for lunch, and we were floating—dreaming about paint colors, remodeling, family dinners, and the life we imagined in our new home. We held hands as we drove to the bank to sign the papers.
And then, the phone rang.
The closing was canceled. The housing market had crashed. Our lending company was collapsing, likely heading for bankruptcy. Our plans evaporated in an instant.
I remember my husband quietly pulling the car over. Neither of us said much—what could we say? We didn’t buy a house that day. Instead, we swallowed the disappointment and the uncertainty that followed. Our conversations quickly shifted from “When we move in…” to “What do we do now?”
We found another lender through our local bank, and one month later, we prepared to sign again. Only this time, a few days before finalizing the purchase, I learned I was losing my job—the first one I had after college, the one I thought I’d grow into. On top of that, I was pregnant. Everything felt fragile, uncertain, and heartbreaking.
My first instinct was to worry. “What about the house?” I asked.
My husband didn’t hesitate. “What about it? You’ll find another job. Don’t worry,” he said.
Even in that moment, when I didn’t want to trust the process or step into the unknown, God was teaching me something vital: trust is not optional. It is essential. Over the next 30 days, He provided. I was offered another position—one that would become an unexpected blessing for our family. It allowed me to work from home long before remote work became common, and it offered extended maternity leave when our son arrived.
We signed for the house. We moved in. And together, we rebuilt everything room by room.
Nearly 20 years later, in 2028, we will celebrate two decades in that home. Nothing remains untouched—paint, flooring, fixtures, all of it has changed. But our love, our faith, and the story of how God carried us through uncertainty remain unshaken.
Growing older doesn’t make transitions easier. Sometimes, experience only teaches us how deeply uncertainty can cut. But it also teaches us something far more important: worry adds weight. Trust lifts it.
My husband’s calm confidence reminded me of God’s steady promises. I didn’t want to trust Him at the time. I didn’t want to trust the process. But trust was exactly what I needed to practice—trust in the Lord, and trust in the partner God had given me. He cares for me, even when I am anxious and uncertain.
Transitions are inevitable throughout life. Housing changes. Work changes. Family rhythms shift. Our bodies and abilities evolve. But we are not asked to face any of these alone. Scripture is full of reminders:
- “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” — Proverbs 3:5–6
- “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.” — Matthew 6:34
- “Cast your burden on the LORD, and he will sustain you.” — Psalm 55:22
In each season, God invites us to place our fears into His hands. The Bible emphasizes the sovereignty of God and the call to surrender our anxieties to Him—not because life is easy, but because He is faithful.
Today, when my husband and I laugh about how our house has changed—how nothing looks the way it originally did—we also remember a deeper truth: the home we built is anchored in a story of God’s provision, of lessons learned in trusting Him even when we didn’t understand.
Transitions will come. They will surprise us. They will interrupt and overwhelm. But they also shape us, deepen our faith, and teach us trust we didn’t know we needed. And sometimes, they lead us to blessings we never imagined.
