When Something Ends: Meeting Change, Grief, and God With Honesty
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how change reshapes us—especially the kinds of changes that involve real grief. The ending of a role, a relationship, or a season of life can leave us feeling unanchored. Sometimes it’s obvious why it hurts; other times the ache sits quietly in the background and only shows up when we pause long enough to notice it.
What I keep coming back to is this: God doesn’t rush us through these moments. He invites us to tell the truth about them. And that truth—named honestly before Him—becomes the soil where emotional intelligence, resilience, and spiritual maturity slowly grow.
Naming What Is: Honest Grief Before God
Every ending deserves to be acknowledged. Before trying to work out the “next thing,” it helps to simply name what’s happening and how it feels. We can see clearly in the Psalms and so many parts of Scripture, God isn’t threatened by our grief or confused by our mixed emotions. He welcomes truth.
“Search me, God, and know my heart… See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”
— Psalm 139:23–24
“Be still, and know that I am God.”
— Psalm 46:10
This kind of stillness isn’t passive. It’s the quiet space where we learn to recognise and acknowledge our emotions rather than burying them.
Reflection Practice: The Unfolding Landscape
Try creating a page with three headings:
What is ending
What is uncertain
What is continuing
Write without editing yourself. Let it be messy if it needs to be.
Then pause with God and ask:
What surprised me?
What grief is asking to be named?
What might God be inviting me to entrust to Him?
Simply naming the truth becomes an act of surrender—and a step toward emotional clarity.
Who Am I Without What Has Ended?
When something significant ends, it can feel like part of us goes with it. Roles shape us. Relationships shape us. And when they shift, our identity can wobble a little - and that is ok because God has created us to be relational, in His image, and relationships matter.
But endings can also reveal what is most deeply true: who we are in Christ, regardless of circumstance.
“For in Christ… you have been brought to fullness.”
— Colossians 2:9–10
“For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.”
— Colossians 3:3
Journal Prompt
Who am I when the title or relationship is no longer there?
What gifts, values, or desires has God place in me that remain the same across every season?
Endings can become invitations to rediscover identity—not in what we do, but in the One who holds us.
Practising Release: Making Space for What’s Next
Grief often shows up as holding tight — tight to certainty, tight to the past, tight to what we thought life would look like. Letting go isn’t about pretending something didn’t matter. It’s about trusting God with the parts we can’t hold tightly too anymore and in reconginising the things that are beyond our control:
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding…”
— Proverbs 3:5
Reflection Practice: A Prayer of Release
Start with:
Today, I let go of…
And see where it takes you:
I let go of the fear that my value was tied to that role.
I let go of the belief that I have to hold everything together.
I let go of the pressure to know exactly what comes next.
If it helps, write them down and put them away—or rip them up, burn or bury them as a small, embodied act of surrender - whatever works best for you and the role/relationship you are working at letting go of.
Listening for What Is Emerging
Even in endings, something new is quietly forming. You might not be able to see it yet, and that’s okay. God often works in the slow, unseen places long before anything becomes visible.
Journal Prompt
Set a timer for 10 minutes and ask yourself:
What might God be making possible because something has ended?
Don’t push for clarity. Let the question just sit there with you for a little while. Over time, you may notice gentle nudges, new thoughts, or simply a deeper sense of trust.
This is where emotional intelligence grows too—in learning to be curious rather than anxious.
Transitions rarely resolve overnight. Sometimes we need to revisit the same questions again and again. But in the naming, the releasing, the waiting, and the listening, God meets us—and forms us in ways that only grief and grace together can.
