2 Truths to Help Us Intentionally Embrace Our Season

Four years ago, my daughter and I tagged along on a business trip my husband had to Hawaiʻi. His company had been asked to assess a potential project, and what was supposed to be a simple work trip quickly turned into something much bigger. About halfway through our visit, it became clear that if the project moved forward, my husband would have to be on-site to oversee the work and manage the logistics.

Although the idea of living in paradise was exciting, it also carried a bit of trepidation at the thought of being so far away from our families and half a world away at that. But we were assured that if we made the move, it would only be for six months. That felt manageable. After prayer and consideration, we took the leap, thinking we’d be away from our families for just half a year and, in exchange, we'd get to experience a little family adventure together.

Not long after we settled into our new life in Hawaiʻi, the project grew, and so did our timeline. Six months became nine. Nine months turned into a year. Before long, we realized that while our time here would still be temporary, our departure date would remain a mystery.

About a month ago, that mystery finally came to an end. God made it abundantly clear that He was opening the door for us to return to the mainland. Just as He called us to step out in faith when we first came to Hawaiʻi, He is now asking us to trust Him again as we step into what He has planned next.

Over the past four years, we've experienced so many incredible adventures, witnessed God's breathtaking creation in ways we never imagined, and, perhaps most unexpectedly, found a community of people who don't just feel like family—they are family. Saying goodbye to them will undoubtedly be the hardest part.

We've experienced some incredible highs during our time in Hawaiʻi, but it hasn't all been paradise. There have been hard seasons too—times of disappointment, painful circumstances, and challenges that stretched our faith in ways we never expected.

And honestly, it's not easy to build a life somewhere when you know it's only temporary, but you have no idea how temporary. We’ve wrestled with how settled do we let ourselves become and how much do we invest in being here, all while knowing there's a clock ticking in the background—we just couldn’t see how much time was left on it.

Shortly into our life here, my husband and I decided that rather than avoiding the tension of living fully in the present while knowing goodbye was inevitable, we would instead lean into it. We put down roots even though we knew we'd eventually have to pull them up. We invested in friendships, served in our church, explored the island, celebrated milestones, and built a life—not because we knew how long we'd be here, but exactly because we didn’t. 

It wasn't always easy. Loving people deeply is risky when you know you'll eventually have to leave them. But knowing the uncertainty of our time here spurred us to make the most of every moment, both the good and the bad. So we chose to live here with purpose and trust God with the eventual goodbye.

Looking back now, I'm so grateful we did.

Living an almost nomadic existence for the last four years has taught me what it really means to live intentionally. The truth is, we're all living with ticking clocks—we're just not always aware of them. Some mark the end of a particular season, while others count down the precious time we have with the people we love. And ultimately, every one of us is living within the limits of our own temporary existence.

The truth is, we never know when time will run out, but we often live as if life will just go on like it always has. We assume we'll have another conversation, another opportunity to serve, another chance to say "I love you," or another tomorrow to become the people God is calling us to be. But we were never promised that. 

Knowing this isn’t meant to make us live anxiously, but rather intentionally. The fact that our time is short — far shorter than we know — makes it even more precious and should spur us to view and to use whatever time God has given us in a given season with humility, gratitude, and purpose. 

Knowing our season in Hawaiʻi would eventually end not only changed the way we lived, but it also changed the way I think. As I look back on these last four years, two truths in particular have helped me learn how to better live my life with intentionality.

1. Every season has an ending. Don't miss the beauty of the one you're in.

When we first arrived in Hawaiʻi, we experienced the euphoria of living in our new tropical home. Every day was a new adventure, and we couldn't believe we got to call such a beautiful place home.
We made time to explore, to learn about the culture, to visit every beach, and to generally maximize our time here. 

But before long, life settled into a rhythm. There was still work to do, school to attend, bills to pay, and all the ordinary and often unpleasant demands that come with daily life. As beautiful as Hawaiʻi is, it's still a place where normal life happens.

Experiencing this shift began teaching me something important: no matter what season we find ourselves in, it is temporary. The highs don't last forever, and neither do the lows. 

Are you enjoying a season where life feels great, your hard work has come to fruition, your plans are coming true, and positivity abounds? That’s temporary. 

Are you in a season where life is hard, nothing seems to be going right, and the world just feels too heavy to bear? Yes, that’s temporary, too. 

One of our greatest temptations is to believe that whatever we're experiencing right now is how life will always be. But Scripture reminds us otherwise. Life is marked by seasons. There are times of abundance and times of need, seasons of rejoicing and seasons of sorrow. Neither lasts forever. 
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Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 provides us with a clear lesson in this:

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under Heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
 a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; 
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
 a time to break down, and a time to build up; 
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
 a time to mourn, and a time to dance; 
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
 a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; 
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
 a time to keep, and a time to cast away; 
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
 a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
 a time for war, and a time for peace.

God has set seasons for us all. There will be seasons of joy, and there will be seasons of grief. There will be times of loss, and there will be times of blessing. The point isn't to decide whether we're in a "good" season or a "bad" one. The point is to remember that it's a season. And seasons are always temporary. 

Every season is a gift from the Lord, accomplishing His purposes in us. Our calling isn't to cling to one season or fear the next, but to trust the One who has ordained and faithfully carries us through them all. 

When we truly understand and believe this truth, it changes the way we walk through every season. Instead of resisting where God has us or constantly wishing we were somewhere else, we can embrace the season He's given us, trusting that He has a purpose for it—whether it feels joyful or difficult.

In seasons of abundance, our hearts can be drawn toward humility and gratitude. We recognize that every good thing we have is a gift from our heavenly Father—not something we've earned or something we are entitled to. These seasons are reminders of His kindness and give us countless reasons to praise Him.

Knowing that these seasons are temporary helps to keep us from taking His blessings for granted. Instead of assuming they will always be ours, we learn to receive them with open hands, cherish them while we have them, and trust God with whatever comes next. 

Hard seasons can also produce gratitude. Not because the pain is good, but because we know it isn't pointless. God is with us in the middle of it. He isn't wasting our suffering, and He isn't absent from it. He's using it to shape us, draw us closer to Him, and accomplish things we may not understand until much later.
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And perhaps one of the greatest comforts of all is this: hard seasons don't last forever. The trial you're walking through today has an end date, even if you can't see it yet. And this gives us hope. We can keep putting one foot in front of the other, trusting that the same God who led us into this season will faithfully lead us through it.

2. God’s plans are always better.

When we first arrived here, we had a plan. Six months. A quick adventure in an amazing place, and then we would move on to the next chapter of our life as a family. I laugh now thinking back on how sure we were that this was exactly how everything would go. Between then and now, there were times we were thrilled that our timeline was changed. We weren't ready to say goodbye to the people who had become family or to the place that had become home.

But there were also times we struggled — times when the uncertainty felt heavy. We cried out to the Lord. “What happens next? When will we know? Where are You leading us?” We found ourselves living in this strange tension of loving where God had put us while also wondering what He had planned next. We were grateful for the people, the community, and the life we had built here, but there was always that lingering question in the background: How much longer?

We were trying to be fully present and enjoy the season God had given us while also knowing He had put something else in our hearts for the future. And honestly, that was hard.
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Over the last four years, I’ve often reflected on Proverbs 16:9. ​

“The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps."

There were many times when we sat down and tried to figure out what would come next. We made our best guesses about the future and created timelines that seemed reasonable. And time after time, those plans changed. What we thought would happen didn't happen the way we expected.

But that doesn't mean making plans is wrong. Planning is a good and necessary part of being responsible stewards of what God has given us. We aren't called to live carelessly or avoid thinking ahead. But we are called to remember that our plans are always subject to the perfect wisdom and authority of a sovereign God.

We can and should make plans, but we must hold them with open hands. Because ultimately, our confidence is not in our ability to predict the future—it is in the One who already knows it and faithfully directs our steps.

Honestly, I am so grateful that our plans fell through. Not only did it give us more time here with people we love, but it taught me so much. I had to learn to be patient and wait for His timing. It forced me to trust God rather than some plan to give me security. 

And now that the time has finally come to move on, I have a peace and certainty I don't think I would have had otherwise. I would likely have looked back and always wondered, “Did I force this?” 
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Instead, I can look back and see His faithfulness, generosity, provision, and care. He carried us through every unexpected turn, and He made the timing clear in His perfect way.

As I write this, I am sitting on my living room floor. If you were here with me now, you’d see we have almost no furniture left; most of it has already been sold. In fact, you’d probably look around and think, “Wow, what a mess!” But when I cast my eyes across the room, I just see God’s goodness. I see a God who was so kind to bring our family here and give us almost eight times longer than we ever expected. I think of the faces of people — friends, neighbors, fellow church members — who have left an indelible mark on our family. I think about the places we explored, the experiences we shared, and even the hard moments that stretched us and shaped us into who we are today. Yes, my house is getting emptier by the day, but my heart is full to the brim. 

As I look back on these past four years, I’m reminded that God never wastes a season. Not the joyful ones. Not the painful ones. Not even the uncertain ones where we’re left wondering what He is doing.

The season will change, but God never does. 

We came to Hawaiʻi thinking we were only here for six months, but God knew He was doing something far greater than giving us a temporary adventure. He was teaching us to trust Him one day at a time. He was reminding us that our plans are small, but His purposes are always bigger. He showed us that the beauty of a season isn’t found in how long it lasts, but in how faithfully we live in it.

So wherever you find yourself today—whether you are in a season you never want to end, a season you can’t wait to leave, or a season where you’re simply waiting for God to reveal what comes next—lean in.

Be present. Love deeply. Serve faithfully. Receive each day as a gift from the God who knows the beginning, the middle, and the end.
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Because seasons will come to an end, but the goodness of God is forever.

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23

Ask yourself today: "Am I fully embracing the season God has given me, or am I so focused on what comes next that I’m missing what He wants to do in me right now?"