“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” - Isaiah 43:19
Our bodies were made to sustain a healthy rhythm, the sort that hums to a well-oiled tune we are so unable to control, let alone consistently observe, that science calls it “involuntary.” In and out, our lungs quietly take oxygen and give carbon dioxide, nourishing plants and other life in turn. Thump, thump, thump, our hearts keep a humble beat, the sort that, when we listen to a spouse’s or a child’s, we call music. We call it peace, the sound that the precious life nuzzled against us continues.
So it only makes sense that we gravitate toward rhythms and routines in other aspects of life, mimicking our body’s daily process of sustainability. Whether we love a detailed, pretty planner or keep a religious digital calendar that pings and dings all day long, most of us prefer a predictable schedule, something that gives us a heads-up as to what’s next. This means we can, in theory, be prepared for what’s to come. We won’t be surprised. We can show up as our “best self.” But when a season comes to an end, whether a relationship fades or a career takes a turn, what are we to do with the change, the farewell, especially if we were unprepared and our relationship with the familiar is upended?
We are to reflect on the fruitfulness of a farewell, of saying goodbye to what we've known, to embrace what's to come. Just as our bodies boast in the beauty of internal rhythms and patterns, nature showcases the beauty of changing from one season to the next. For almost four years, I have been the editor for iBelieve.com, but by the time you are reading this, I will have been unemployed, a stay-at-home mama, for roughly half a day. As a woman who struggles with pride and wants to prove her worth, it’s hard for me to step away from a career that justified all my college degrees. It’s hard for me to walk away from a paycheck that makes me feel equal to my husband in providing for our family. I want to hold onto the predictability of pride. Humility is still too new to me, far too uncomfortable.
But what joy this new season promises, as I get to dedicate more time to my two-year-old son, the little guy who carries all God’s light and hope in his big brown eyes! Truly, there is fruitfulness in seasons of farewell, expected and unexpected, if only we allow God’s goodness to lead us in and out of life’s twists and turns.
If you are in a season of change, saying farewell to all the comforts of a routine, I pray you notice the fruitfulness in the farewell. I pray that leaving what you know to embrace something new is an opportunity to keep your eyes wide open, your ears always listening, and your soul faithfully humming God’s promise that He goes before us, ensuring that our loyalty to His plan never leaves us empty but forever changed for the better.
Let’s pray ...
Lord,
Seasons of change are tough because they are often unexpected, uncomfortable, or both. Grant us your peace and hope. Remind us of your sovereignty as we surrender our love for control to you, submitting to the beautiful new road you have called us to. May we truly believe that your goodness and mercy follow us all our days (Psalm 23). In your holy name we pray, Jesus,
Amen.
What truth from today’s devotional is God using to encourage your heart? Share your reflection and join our conversation in the iBelieve Truth Devotional Forum.
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If you've been feeling tired, overwhelmed, depleted, or just quietly wondering where God is in the middle of a very full life — this episode is for you. And honestly? It might be for me too, because I'm recording this in one of those seasons myself.
Today we're doing something a little different. Instead of going deep in a passage, we're talking about what to do when deep feels like too much — when you need less, not more. Specifically, I'm walking you through one of my favorite practices for weary seasons: handwriting scripture.
Not typing it. Not scrolling past it. Actually writing it out, slowly, in your own hand — because something happens in your brain when you do that. The words land differently. They go deeper. And over time, they become part of that personal library of God's voice that the Holy Spirit can pull from when you need it most. That's what Psalm 119:11 means when it says I have hidden your word in my heart — it's scripture moving into your long-term memory, where it lives and stays even when you haven't opened your Bible in weeks.
I'm sharing the five verses I wrote out for myself today — and why each one hit me fresh even though I've known some of them for years. This episode is part of our How to Study the Bible Podcast, a show that brings life back to reading the Bible and helps you understand even the hardest parts of Scripture. If this episode helps you know and love God more, be sure to follow the How to Study the Bible Podcast on Apple or Spotify so you never miss an episode!
Originally published Sunday, 28 June 2026.
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