Well Words Wednesday | Transitions: Living Faithfully in the In-Between

01 07 2026

God in the Liminal Space

The beginning of a new year is a predictable transitional time, year after year. Other transitions rarely arrive with neat edges. They often come quietly—or all at once—through loss, change, waiting, or uncertainty. A job ends; a relationship shifts; a diagnosis comes; a loved one dies; an expectation is dashed. A new season is thrust upon us before the old one feels finished. In our community here at Christ Church, we are navigating the retirement of our Rector after 17 years of leadership and waiting to see what plans God has in store for us next.

These moments place us in what spiritual writers often call liminal space—the in-between time. The word liminal comes from the Latin limen, meaning “threshold.” It is the space between what has been and what will be. It can feel unsteady, uncomfortable, and disorienting.

And yet, it is often where God does some of God’s deepest work.

God Dwells in the In-Between

Scripture is filled with stories shaped by liminal seasons. The Israelites wander in the wilderness between slavery and freedom. The disciples live in the uncertain days between crucifixion and resurrection. Jesus himself spends forty days in the wilderness before beginning his ministry.

These are not wasted spaces. They are holy ones.

In liminal seasons, we are stripped of certainty and invited into trust. We are reminded that faith is not about control, but about companionship—walking with a God who meets us in the unknown.

“Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).

Stillness, in times of transition, is not inactivity—it is attentiveness. It is learning to notice where God is already present.

Grief and Grace in the Threshold

Transitions often carry grief, even when they lead to something good. We grieve the loss of what was familiar, what we loved, what we thought would last longer. Liminal space allows us to name that grief honestly.

Jesus does not rush past grief. He weeps at Lazarus’ tomb even knowing resurrection is coming. In doing so, he shows us that sorrow and hope can coexist.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” (Matthew 5:4).

In liminal spaces, grief becomes a teacher. It slows us down. It invites tenderness. It opens us to grace we might otherwise miss.

Waiting as Holy Work

Liminal time often feels like waiting—but Scripture reminds us that waiting is not wasted.

“Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength” (Isaiah 40:31).

Waiting shapes us. It deepens trust. It loosens our grip on outcomes and invites us to rely on God’s presence rather than certainty. In these in-between moments, we are not being delayed—we are being formed.

We Do Not Walk Alone

One of God’s greatest gifts in times of transition is community. Sometimes the season of transition is not just a personal one—it belongs to the whole community. A change in leadership can stir deep emotions within a church: gratitude for what has been, grief over what is ending, anxiety about what lies ahead, and hope that feels both fragile and expectant. Leadership transitions place a congregation squarely in liminal space.

A church in transition has a unique opportunity to strengthen its communal bonds. When familiar structures shift, relationships matter more than ever. Worship, prayer, fellowship, Bible studies, and shared service become anchors. The simple acts of showing up for one another—listening, encouraging, forgiving—become sacred practices.

In these moments, the church bears witness not by having all the answers, but by staying rooted in love. We trust that God is still at work in the waiting. Even during times of uncertainty, we learn to trust that the Spirit is shaping something faithful and new.

As with all liminal spaces, this season will not last forever. But what it forms in us—humility, patience, attentiveness to God and one another—may shape the church for years to come.

A Prayer for the Liminal Space

Gracious God,
You meet us at every threshold.
When we are unsure, unsettled, or afraid,
remind us that you are near.
Help us trust your presence in the waiting,
your grace in the not-knowing,
and your love in every in-between place.
Form us, guide us, and lead us forward in hope.
Amen.

³⁰you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ ³¹The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” Mark 12:30-31

Greta Parkinson, MA-LPC, is a Licensed Professional Counselor with over 20 years experience working with children, adolescents, adults, families, and couples. She has worked in the public sector as a counselor, policy maker, and director of child, adolescent, and family services, as well as in private practice offering services to children and adults. In her therapy practice she helped clients with a broad range of issues including anxiety, depression, mood issues, ADHD, parenting issues, career related transitions, relational issues, and other adjustments to life transitions. A parishioner for many years, Parkinson joined the staff of Christ Church Episcopal in 2024.