When a season shifts, it’s much like a train pulling into a new station. The atmosphere changes, the scenery outside looks different, and the path ahead may not feel quite the same as before. Truth is, not every passenger who started the journey with you is meant to ride all the way to the final stop.
We often want certain people to remain seated next to us through every turn, every delay, and every acceleration. But the design of destiny doesn’t always work that way. Some people were assigned to travel with you from Station A to Station C, and their part of the ride was both meaningful and necessary. Their departure doesn’t diminish the value of their presence; it simply means their destination in your life has been reached.
Just like in a transit system, tickets have time limits, routes have boundaries, and riders have destinations. Some relationships are lifetime passes, but most are only valid for a stretch of the journey. Their exit may sting, but it also signals that space is being created for what — or who — is next.
One of the hardest lessons is learning to release people without resentment. When someone steps off, it doesn’t erase their contribution to your story. They were still part of the laughter, the lessons, the late-night brainstorming, or even the tears. Their stop was meaningful, even if it wasn’t forever.
And here’s the beauty of it: just because one person steps away doesn’t mean your train slows down. In fact, many times, one may leave but two more may step on. You lose one rider but gain multiple others who are assigned to the next season of your journey.
Here’s where many struggle, we mourn the departure so long that we miss the arrivals! We keep staring at the door that just closed, blind to the ones who just walked in. Every new rider brings something unique — fresh energy, new wisdom, encouragement, and sometimes even challenges that refine and prepare us.
Some will ride only one stop. Others will ride for miles. And a rare few may stay until the very end. But all matter.
Lets face it, You’re not the conductor of the train. God is. He sees the full route, the stations ahead, and the timing of every stop. He knows which passengers are needed to sharpen you, which ones are needed to support you, and which ones must leave so the weight doesn’t keep you from accelerating.
Your role is to remain faithful to the journey — to stay seated, stay alert, and stay open to both the arrivals and the exits.
Every season shift brings both exits and entrances. Some departures will hurt. Some arrivals will surprise you. But both are necessary for your destiny. The train is still moving, and so are you.
This is just one of the Things Im Feeling!