In Seasons of God, Richard Blackaby writes about how the Lord uses change and loss to usher us into new seasons — seasons that often open bright, unexpected paths.
His stories show God bringing beauty from ashes —whether through a ministry birthed out of the tragic loss of a loved one, or through the everyday losses we face: a job, our health, or — in my case — relocation.
My change was from Chicago’s fast-paced reserve to the South’s open-armed warmth. It came abruptly. My husband’s doctor looked him in the eye and said, “Slow down, or you will die much younger than you should.” But in the competitive metro business world, slowing down meant losing contracts, missing payroll, and letting employees down. So, he didn’t slow down — not ever. Over time, the chronic stress settled over him like a weighted blanket, dulling his memory, draining his strength, and clouding his focus.
And so, we moved. It was the right decision. But as Charles Dickens wrote, it was “the best of times and the worst of times.” I left behind everything familiar — my job, my community, my children, and my closest friends. Although I adjusted to many of the changes — and honestly loved Mississippi’s culture with its deeply rooted faith and Bibles openly displayed in doctors’ offices — I still missed my family, my friends, and the identity I had in my northern church community. Many mornings in that first year, I found myself in prayer before the Lord, trying to sort it all out.
Then one day it dawned on me: I was grieving. Grief experts call this disenfranchised grief — a term coined by Dr. Kenneth Doka to describe grief that isn’t openly acknowledged or socially validated. Relocation, with its loss of place, routine, and belonging, is one such example. Just naming it made all the difference, because understanding and acknowledgment are often where true healing begins.
Griever’s Toolbox
Bring a small piece of your past into your present — a mug, hymn, or weekly tradition — as a bridge between what was and what is. It reminds your heart that your roots are still intact, even as you grow in new soil.
Four years later, my husband’s health is fully restored, and we are deeply at home here in the Grenada area — a testimony to God’s goodness, and proof that beauty truly can rise from ashes.
Debbie Simler-Goff, Certified Mental Health Coach (AACC) Email: debbiesimler@gmail.com
