Arriving and leaving are two extremely essential points to a journey full of different seasons, places, and communities that we find ourselves called to. College was a vital season for me, and I ended up at a school I had never heard of a year earlier. I had to get there, and it was through one path crossed with another that the destination came into focus. It took obedience to follow through, and it took hard work to remain. But I’m approaching the end. As are many of my friends. Seasons come and seasons go, and a shift has to take place between them. Leaving always looks different than arriving, with so much change occurring in between. The problem is that we don’t know how to make that shift. We don’t know how to leave well.
What does leaving look like? What does a good transition from one season to another consist of?
As I wrote a letter to a friend about to leave her summer missions assignment, with these very questions in the back of her mind, as I had when I was in her very shoes several summers ago, my mind went back to a passage of scripture that meant a lot to me when I was there. It details Paul’s own transition from one season to another. Whether it’s transitioning home from a season of missions, going back to school after a life-changing summer, graduating, or moving out into “the real world,” the words Paul spoke in Acts 20.17-38 to church leaders who he had raised up during the years he spent with them apply to any transition we face.
1. He examined how he had lived and worked among the people he was ministering to and serving.
Paul looked back for a moment, even asking the leaders to also look with him, upon how he had lived among them. He was honest and vulnerable about what he faced and how he faced it among them. Here are his words, in the voice paraphrase:
“We will have many memories of our time together in Ephesus; but of all the memories, most of all I want you to remember my way of life. From the first day I arrived in Asia, I served the Lord with humility and tears, patiently enduring the many trials that came my way through the plots of my Jewish opponents. I did everything I could to help you; I held nothing back.”
I know right now I need to confess the things that I have held back this summer. But we must also remember that the victory was won two-thousand years ago, and that God has made a way of victory through this season, no matter the outcome, statistics, or mislaid plans. What’s on paper does not reflect what’s in the heart. Of God. Of you. Of the people you’ve worked among. Lay down the defeats at His feet–the feet that rest upon the earth in victory. Take His victory upon you, and learn from Him. For He is gentle and lowly of heart. (matthew 11). Remember who He is. Mighty Victor & Gentle Shepherd: leading you through each season in victory, teaching you along the way in gentleness. Not condemnation! praise be.
2. He reflected on how God had changed and used him in this season.
How has gone been at work around you this summer? What about within you?
3. He looked forward to the next season that he was being called to.
Paul was hopeful and expectant, even in the midst of the trouble, affliction, even pain that he would face, which was affirmed to him by the Spirit of God. He said (the voice, vv. 22-24): “My future is uncertain, but I know–the Holy Spirit has told me–that everywhere I go from now on, I will find imprisonment and persecution waiting for me. But that’s OK. That’s no tragedy for me because I don’t cling to my life for my own sake.” He clings to his life for the sake of others alone. Elsewhere he reminds us that that kind of life, “the life that echoes everyday the words of Jesus Christ our King” (v. 35 the voice), is a life “lived by faith in the son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (galatians 2.20).
And it is this faith, this self-emptying faith, that enables him & us to look ahead. To see the next step of God’s purposes. To hear the Holy Spirit’s guidance in our hearts. And to trust His voice, even if it means imprisonment, persecution, trials. He is the sovereign king who never lets us out of His sight. Even if we are to be put in the fire, He will be there. And He will use even the fire for His purposes. Paul knew he was called to Rome, to preach the gospel, and to Rome he was taken via persecution and imprisonment, shipwrecks and chains. God will fulfill His purpose for us. Look forward always in hope.
4. He resolved his life to one purpose and plan: God’s.
“My life is nothing.” This is what Paul committed himself to as He committed himself to God and his plan. This life, this mortal flesh, is a mere vessel for the ultimate plan of God. It doesn’t matter what happens with it. It only matters what happens through it. And as long as there is breath in this body, it will be for finishing the task of His great fame: “to testify to the gospel of the grace of God.”
The fact that seasons change does not (should not) affect the call of God on our life. The trajectory of God’s plan never wavers. Locations, circumstances, and specifics merely carry us along His way, as much as we submit to Him–and not to them. If we root ourselves in Him, in His love, first, and then into the soils of the lands and peoples his plants us–“we will not be greatly shaken” (psalm 62). Moved? Tossed? Hurt? Confused? YES. Shaken? Even so. But greatly shaken–uprooted from Him? separated from His love? cut off from His plan? Never.
5. He charged those he had nurtured in the faith with what they were to continue to do even in his absence.
Paul recognized that the work did not begin and end with him but was constant with God’s ever-present Spirit.
When I was in Oklahoma, my pride took a turn for the worst, as I worried about what would happen when I left. Who would continue to love these girls? Who would speak truth? How would relationships continue? How would they grow? My teammate and I quickly rallied around this truth, that His plan is utterly independent of us. Yes, He graciously chooses to use us, fragile jars of clay that we are. Yet His will stands steadfast; His purposes prevail. We cannot hinder Him, limit Him, or cut off His work in any way, shape or form. Not by going. Not by leaving. Not by taking a day off. But we must be Spirit-sensitive as we do all these things. He has very specific things for us to do as we go, as we leave, as we rest.
For Paul, in his moments of leaving, it meant giving a charge to these elders. It meant telling them what they should do, what they should continue to do, as he left them to their churches and their people. Is there someone we can speak life into in the last moments we have with them? One more chance to share the gospel? One more letter to write? One more hug to give?
6. He let them go, entrusting them into the hands of God and to the word of His grace.
Paul knew and affirmed that it was only God’s Word that could keep them and build them up on their own journey of sanctification. And it was that truth that enabled him to let them go.
This is the most important thing we can do in leaving well. There are people that will stay with us, of course. Teammates. People we can stay in touch with. But inevitably, there are some who are kept in seasons away from us. Paul knew that he would never see these leaders again. Yet, whether we are leaving them behind or not, we still must let them go. We must put them in God’s hands. We cannot control their destiny (vv. 26-27). Again, this is where my own worrying must be stifled. And it is this truth, this stronghold of hope (which I find myself repeating over friends and family constantly), that enables me to do just that:
“I entrust you to the message of God’s grace, a message that has the power to build you up and to give you rich heritage among all who are set apart for God’s holy purposes.” (v. 32).
Paul recognized that it wasn’t his power, words, or conduct among them that could build them up or uphold them in the truth. And it was this word that enabled him to leave well–knowing that it was God and the Word of God they had been taught that would keep them growing in maturity of faith. So he left them with that.
7. And He didn’t neglect saying goodbye, with prayer, weeping, and worship.
Paul was unafraid and unashamed of the sorrow leaving caused, but he was also willing to keep moving forward despite it. Leaving hurts, and I think this example of leaving well probably hurts more. I’m not good at leaving well. I want to just GO already! I neglect goodbyes easily and make them quick and seamless, shoving down all the tears & hard thoughts that accompany them. For my own next-season-departure, I have been given more time. 6-7 months, to be exact, post-December graduation. More time to say goodbye; less time to neglect the thoughts behind it. So, I’m taking a cue from Paul. I’m going to take every opportunity I can to leave this season, when it ends, well. We need help in this and we need people in this. We need to come alongside each other, as these men did here, kneel on some beaches, worship our God, trust His ways and timing, allow ourselves to weep and to mourn over an ending. But we must also allow ourselves to rejoice, because a new beginning has come. Full of life, hope, promise–even if the promises seem for harm. God has an amazing way of turning what is meant for evil into so much good.
