You are not where you once were, and you are not yet where you need to be. Something has ended. An assignment has changed, a relationship is no longer what it was, and the provision you depended on has shifted. You know you can't go back, but when you look ahead the way forward seems blocked.
I call this place the hallway, and hallways can feel like hell.
Between the closed door of the past and the open door of the future there is often a long delay. We may never fully understand it, but God can have a purpose for the in-between.
[GLENN: WRITE THIS. A short story from a hallway season of your own. Write it badly, don't shape it.]
THE HALLWAY FORMS US
Scripture treats the in-between as a workshop. Israel had the wilderness between Egypt and Canaan. Joseph had the prison between the pit and the palace. David had the cave between the anointing and the throne. Jesus had years of obscurity in Nazareth and forty days in the desert before His public ministry began. We want to go straight from promise to fulfilment, and God takes us through process, because He is as concerned with who we become on the way as with where we arrive.
James says, "knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance" (James 1:3, WEB). What if the season you are trying to escape is producing something you will need in the next one?
THE HALLWAY STRIPS OUR PROPS
When the doors are open, we coast on our gifts, our momentum, our experience, our reputation, our relationships, and our resources. In the narrow passage between rooms none of that carries us, and we are thrown back on God Himself. Often we don't know how much we leaned on those props until He lets them go.
Paul pleaded for his thorn to be removed, and the Lord answered, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Corinthians 12:9, WEB). We may never discover the full sufficiency of God while everything else is sufficient. We learn His faithfulness when other things fail us. So don't waste your hallway wishing you were somewhere else. Something may be forming in the dark that God will later display in the light.
THE HALLWAY IS ALSO DANGEROUS
Israel had left Egypt and had not yet reached Canaan. They were tired and strung out across the desert, and that is when Amalek attacked. Moses later reminded them: "Remember what Amalek did to you by the way as you came out of Egypt; how he met you by the way, and struck among you all who were feeble behind you, when you were faint and weary" (Deuteronomy 25:17–18, WEB).
The attack fell on the stragglers, not on the strong center of the camp. Long uncertainty wears us down the same way. A crisis carries you on adrenaline, but then the weeks become months, no answer arrives, and discouragement starts to talk. Maybe I missed God. Maybe it's over. Maybe I should go back. Be careful what you decide when you are exhausted, because weariness makes Egypt look good.
DON'T GO BACK BECAUSE IT'S FAMILIAR
After the resurrection, Peter said, "I am going fishing" (John 21:3, WEB). Fishing was what he knew before Jesus called him, and when the future was unclear he reached for what he understood. We do the same. When the new season hasn't arrived, the old life starts calling, and it calls because it is familiar, whether or not it is right.
Israel did this in the wilderness. They remembered the fish and the leeks and forgot the chains (Numbers 11:5). Discouragement romanticizes what God delivered us from, and yesterday starts to look better only because tomorrow hasn't come.
DON'T BUILD A HOUSE IN THE HALLWAY
Waiting says, "I will remain faithful here until God directs my next step." Settling says, "I no longer expect another door to open." The hallway has a purpose, but it isn't your permanent address. At some point waiting has to give way to movement, grief to belief, and looking back to looking ahead.
Paul wrote, "forgetting the things which are behind, and stretching forward to the things which are before, I press on toward the goal" (Philippians 3:13–14, WEB). You can't walk into the future while staring at the door that closed behind you. Honor what was, grieve what you lost, learn what God is teaching you, forgive who needs forgiving, and repent where you need to.
THE NEW DIRECTION OFTEN FOLLOWS THE DISRUPTION
This is one of the patterns I trace in Unsettled. We want God to show us the new direction before He disrupts the old one, and He often doesn't. Paul was forbidden to speak in Asia before the Macedonian vision came (Acts 16:6–10). The disciples hauled up empty nets before Jesus appeared on the shore (John 21:3–6). Elijah watched the brook dry up before he was sent to Zarephath (1 Kings 17:7–9).
You may have genuinely released what was and still be unable to see what will be. That space takes faith, because "we walk by faith, not by sight" (2 Corinthians 5:7, WEB). God doesn't always give a map. Often He gives light for the next step.
YOUR HALLWAY IS NOT WASTED
Joseph could look back over betrayal, slavery, false accusation, prison, and delay, and say, "As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good" (Genesis 50:20, WEB). He said that from the other side. In the pit he had to trust what he couldn't yet understand. The interpretation usually comes at the end, and the trusting is required in the middle.
The closed door, the long delay, the loss, and the unanswered questions don't necessarily mean God has abandoned you. So stay close to Him, let Him form you, listen for His voice, and be ready when the next door opens, because the hallway was never meant to be your home.
IF THIS IS YOUR SEASON
This article is adapted from my book Unsettled: The Unexpected Path to God's Purposes, written for people whose plans have been disrupted, whose resources have thinned, and who are standing between what was and what comes next. The book goes further into how to discern what God is doing in transition, how to recognize redirection, and how to keep from being stuck by disappointment, fear, or familiarity. You can find it at UnsettledBook.com.
If Unsettled has helped you, please take a moment to leave an honest review on Amazon. Reviews help other people in their own unsettled seasons find it. And if you know someone standing in the hallway right now, share this with them.