The Season Between Seasons
Have you ever been in a season—one between seasons?
It’s that space where you know there’s more ahead, but you feel stuck right before the more.
Lately, I’ve found myself in this kind of season. I guess you could call it a transition season. For a while now, I’ve had this feeling that something new is on the horizon. You know that scripture in Isaiah 43:19 about God doing a new thing? I keep coming back to it, wondering—When, God? When is this new thing happening?
Summer is, quite literally, the season between spring and fall. If I had to pick a favorite season, it would be fall—there’s something about the crisp air and the changing leaves that I’ve always loved. But living in Ohio, we don’t always get much of a fall. Sometimes it feels like we go straight from summer to a brief moment of fall before winter shows up, and I hate when it feels like we’ve skipped a season. But right now, we’re in the middle of summer. The days are long and warm, and even though fall is coming (however long it lasts), we’re here, right in the middle, enjoying this season for what it is.
This summer, the boys have been spending as much time outside as possible. As an end-of-school-year gift, we surprised them with scooters—the older boys with electric scooters and our youngest with a regular scooter, determined to keep up with his big brothers as they race down the street. It’s a reminder that summer is for sticky popsicle hands, late bedtimes, and slow, unhurried days. It’s these simple moments, watching them ride up and down our street, that remind me there’s goodness to be found right here, in this season we’re in.
And honestly, this season reminds me a lot of July. For us, it’s a month full of celebration and shifting rhythms. We celebrate two birthdays—my husband and our oldest son, who turned 10 this year (double digits already!). It feels like such a big milestone, and I’m realizing that parenting a tween comes with its own mix of joy and challenges—navigating big feelings, growing independence, and the tension of wanting to hold on while also letting him grow. Around this time, the older boys start football practice, and life begins to pick up again, nudging us out of the slow days of early summer and into the busier days that lead us toward fall.
Even with the busyness that July brings, there’s still a different kind of pace to these summer days. There’s no rush to pack lunches, no homework battles, no strict bedtime routines. The boys have space to breathe, and so do I—even in the middle of work and responsibilities.
It’s the midpoint of summer—a time to hold onto what we’re enjoying, while also starting to prepare for what’s next. The calendars may be filling up with what’s ahead, but we’re still here, right in the middle.
That’s what this kind of in-between season feels like:
You’re still here… but starting to prepare.
You’re still enjoying… but starting to anticipate.
You’re still balancing… but starting to believe the next season might hold something beautiful, too.
I’m currently reading a book called Now and Not Yet, and it couldn’t be more fitting. It talks about being in-between seasons, and one of the biggest challenges of this space is the constant question: What’s next?
For me, this season has come with a big career transition. After years of being deeply involved in day-to-day operations, I’ve shifted into a role solely focused on growth and strategy. Over the last few months, I’ve been slowly handing off my operational responsibilities to a new leader—a transition that has been easier because we’ve worked closely together over the past four years.
But it’s still a shift: leaving the day-to-day with a team you’ve grown to know and love, moving from having your own office to a cubicle (though at least I now have a view out the window). It’s a season of thinking more strategically, of looking ahead instead of constantly firefighting and fixing. It feels like an invitation from God to slow down, to be more present, and to trust that He’s at work even here.
And in the middle of all this shifting, the questions still come:
What’s next? What doors will open? What will it look like?
The unknowns can be overwhelming.
But recently, someone said something that really stuck with me:
“Don’t let the anxiety of tomorrow steal the joy of today.”
That simple reminder hit me hard. I spend so much time thinking about what’s next that I sometimes forget to be present in what’s now.
God’s promise in Jeremiah 29:11 reminds me that His plans for me are good, even when I don’t have the details. I can trust that He’s already working things out.
So today, I’m focusing on what’s right in front of me: finishing the project of turning the old nursery into my home office as I shift into a hybrid work rhythm, soaking in these slow summer days, and enjoying this season for what it is.
This season won’t steal my joy or peace.
I’ll trust in God and let the worry release.
Because even in the waiting, I know there’s more—more peace, more purpose, and more growth—even here.
P.S.
If you’re reading this and feeling stuck in your own “in-between” season, know this: you’re not behind. You’re exactly where you need to be. And what’s next? It will be immeasurably more than you could ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20).
