Let’s be honest. 

Transitions are hard. 

And when I say that transitions are hard, I’m not merely talking about their more obviously challenging aspects — saying goodbyes, leaving the familiar, uprooting your established life in one place to start from scratch in another, not to mention the logistical details and stressors of moving. I’m talking about the difficulty of living with paradoxical emotions — feelings that seem like they should be at odds with one another, but somehow are not. Running parallel to the difficulties of transitioning to a new place, there can also be a lot of joy surrounding the experience — new beginnings, excitement to explore and meet new people, and a sense of expectation for what God has led you there to do. 

So transitions are hard… not simply because they’re hard, but because they’re simultaneously good.

The life of a cross-cultural worker is one of continual and sometimes seemingly endless transition. “Transition” and “change” seem to be the name of the game for those who have committed their lives to see the good news of Jesus spread to the ends of the earth… and it’s something we would do well to discuss more.

A few weeks ago, I was not okay. It’s been about a year since I moved to the city where I currently live, and in that time I have felt every bit of good and hard that comes with transition. But on the heels of a few weeks out of town, I came back to the place I’m supposed to call “home," and it wasn’t pretty. Despite initially making the move out of obedience to the Lord and a genuine sense of expectation for what He had in store, questions about why I had moved here in the first place plagued me. Tears flowed freely as I grieved the distance separating me from my closest friends and the inability to “do life” with them on a regular basis. Frustration with myself mounted as I recalled several other recent transplants mentioning how much they love the community we live in, and how they’ve never experienced such a positive transition… while all I can seem to muster about this community is that it doesn’t even hold a candle to the experience of Christ-centered community I left behind. All of this was only complicated by the genuine joy I’ve found in some of my current rhythms and the sense of deep hopefulness I feel as I get more connected with a local body of believers. And after my very real and very raw emotions ran their course, I admitted to myself that I had an unspoken expectation of myself that I should be much further along in feeling at home in this city after almost a year of living here. 

But I don’t. 

And in that moment — when unspoken expectation stacked up next to reality and was found wanting — I invited the Holy Spirit into my grieving. And as I did, this thought began taking shape within my soul: Nothing is wasted. Don’t take the formative power of longing and loneliness for granted. 

And that struck me in a deeply profound way. Because I don’t know about you, but that is what I want more than anything… to know that the very real pain I face now will somehow not be for naught. 

And praise God — by the power of His indwelling Spirit, it doesn’t have to be. 

Zach Bradley, director of content and strategy at The Upstream Collective, once exhorted believers to “ allow God’s gracious gift of tangible, terrible longing to help you be the sojourner that you are, longing for and living for the day when you meet Him face to face.” 

I love that. 

And I want that. 

So what would it look like for you and for me to see our longing and loneliness as a powerful tool of formation in our lives as the Spirit is doing the work of sanctifying us more and more into the image and likeness of Jesus? 

There are very few (if any) things in this life that aren’t a foreshadow or a picture of what will be when Christ’s Kingdom comes in its fullness. Marriage is a foreshadow. Sabbath is a foreshadow. A sense of home is a foreshadow. And this side of eternity, our longing and loneliness for things here and now serve as a foreshadowing — a poignant reminder that, while we might taste the satisfaction of longing and loneliness to some degree, we will never experience satisfaction in its fullness until Jesus returns. 

In God’s economy, nothing is wasted, not even your longing and loneliness. And while God is unchanging (Malachi 3:6; James 1:17), our lives are ever-changing. So whether you find yourself in the midst of transition from one community to another, one city to another, one country to another, or some other type of transition, know that the pain you experience in that journey is not wasted. Allow the grief, the frustration, the unfulfilled desires, and the unsettledness within your soul to push you into a deeper communion and fellowship with the Triune God. There is formative power in what you’re experiencing. Leverage your longing for the good gifts of God here and now for the glory of God and the good of your soul as you learn to live contented with discontentment this side of eternity. That’s not to say there are no joys for us here, or that God intends our lives to be miserable. It’s simply a hearkening back to what Paul said in 1 Corinthians 13:12: “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.” This is what it means to be a part of the “here but not yet” Kingdom of God. 

May we, as citizens of Heaven, learn how to be satisfied with dissatisfaction as we engage in the global mission of God on this earth and eagerly await the subsequent return of Jesus — Him who is the perfect fulfillment of our longing and loneliness.

Written by: A GFM Staff Member