“When the drumbeat changes, the dancer must change steps.”
A PAINTING FROM NATURE: THE SEASON THAT LETS GO
In nature, nothing new is born without something old first loosening its grip.
Watch the trees at the edge of harmattan. Leaves that once drank rain now dry, curl, and fall. To the untrained eye, the tree looks like it is dying. But the tree knows something deeper: holding on too long can prevent future life.
The leaf does not fall because it failed.
It falls because its assignment is complete.
Nature teaches us this quietly: endings are not insults; they are transitions. What looks like loss is often space-making. The ground must be cleared before new seeds can breathe.
So it is with God and the chapters of our lives.
WHY CLOSURE IS NOT CRUELTY
Human beings struggle with endings because we equate continuity with value. We assume that if something mattered, it must last forever.
But wisdom teaches otherwise.
Meaning is not measured by duration, but by fulfillment. A chapter can be brief and still be complete. A season can end without being wasted.
God, as the Author of life, understands what many overlook:
a story without chapters becomes confusing, exhausting, and directionless.
To close a chapter is not to erase what happened. It is to frame it, to give it boundaries, so it can teach, shape, and release us into what comes next.
An unclosed chapter keeps the soul suspended, unable to mourn, unable to grow, unable to move.
WHY WE RESIST CLOSURE
We resist endings because our identity often becomes entangled with what we are familiar with.
A role becomes who we are.
A relationship becomes our sense of worth.
A place becomes our security.
A season becomes our comfort zone.
When God closes a chapter, the heart often interprets it as rejection. But most of the time, what is ending is not your value, it is your limitation.
We often prefer known pain to unknown promise. This is why people cling to expired seasons: familiarity feels safer than faith.
Yet growth always requires discomfort. God is not harsh when He disrupts what we have grown attached to. He is kind enough to refuse our stagnation.
GOD CLOSES WHAT NO LONGER FITS WHO YOU ARE BECOMING
God sees not only where you are, but who you are becoming.
Some chapters cannot follow you into the next phase, not because they are evil, but because they are incompatible with the weight of what lies ahead.
Abraham had to leave Ur before becoming a nation-builder.
Joseph had to leave the coat and the pit before the palace.
Moses had to leave the palace before leading a people.
Jesus had to leave Nazareth before fulfilling Calvary.
God often closes doors not because He is angry, but because you are outgrowing the room.
What once sheltered you may now restrict you.
THE MERCY OF INTERRUPTION
One of the greatest misunderstandings about God is assuming that His interruptions are punishments.
Sometimes, the most merciful thing God can do is interrupt a pattern that would eventually destroy you.
If a chapter remained open:
You might settle instead of stretch.
You might manage instead of transform.
You might survive instead of become.
God’s closures are often preventive mercy. He ends what would have ended you.
What feels like loss in the moment may be protection in disguise.
THE WORK THAT HAPPENS BETWEEN CHAPTERS
Between one chapter and the next, there is always a blank space.
This space feels uncomfortable. Nothing is clear. The old is gone, and the new has not yet fully appeared. Yet this is often where God does His deepest work.
Here, pride is stripped.
Motives are purified.
Vision is clarified.
Strength is rebuilt.
God rarely rushes this process because preparation cannot be hurried without consequences.
The silence between chapters is not abandonment; it is alignment.
THE COURAGE TO TURN THE PAGE
Faith is not pretending that endings do not hurt. Faith is trusting that the Author knows where the story is going.
To turn the page requires courage, the courage to stop rereading what God has already finished writing.
Faith says:
“I don’t understand yet, but I trust You.”
“I release what was, to receive what will be.”
“I believe the next chapter carries light I cannot yet see.”
You cannot read the next chapter while clinging to the last sentence of the previous one.
WHEN LOSS IS REALLY TRANSFORMATION
Those who grow in wisdom learn to reinterpret loss.
What if that closed door refined your discernment?
What if that ending strengthened your character?
What if that disappointment repositioned your destiny?
God rarely wastes pain. He turns it into insight, humility, compassion, and authority.
When God closes a chapter, He often preserves its lessons so they can serve you in the next one.
Nothing is truly lost when it is surrendered to God.
THE BETTER BEGINNING YOU CANNOT YET SEE
New beginnings rarely announce themselves with noise. They often arrive as whispers, gentle nudges inviting you to trust again.
The better beginning God prepares is not always bigger. It is often truer.
Truer to who you are.
Truer to your calling.
Truer to your values.
Truer to your peace.
God’s goal is not display, but alignment. A life aligned with His design carries a quiet power no applause can replace.
LETTING GOD WRITE THE STORY
When God closes a chapter, He is not pushing you away. He is inviting you deeper into the story.
The Author does not abandon His characters mid-narrative. He simply knows when a scene has said all it needs to say.
Let the chapter close.
Lay the book back in God’s hands.
Trust the wisdom of the One who sees the ending from the beginning.
“Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.”
-Isaiah (KJV)
Sometimes, the rhythm of life has changed not to confuse you, but to lead you into a better phase.
