
I still remember standing at the shore on my birthday — watching the sun rise in the night with morning and then later sink beneath the horizon. It struck me that both moments carried the same beauty: the beginning of a new day and the ending of one. That’s life, isn’t it? Endings and beginnings overlapping, often in the same breath.
As I prayed with the waves rushing to my feet, I couldn’t help but think of Isaiah 43:19: “See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”
Sometimes we expect God’s newness to arrive in fireworks — obvious, dazzling, impossible to miss. But more often, it shows up in whispers: a shift in the heart, a conversation that lingers, or the quiet sense that a chapter is closing so something fresh can bloom.
🌊 The Overlap of Endings and Beginnings
On September 1st, I ended one year as the sun went down and began another as the sun came up. That overlap became my reminder that God is always weaving both sides of the story.
I thought of Moses, who only glimpsed God’s back as He passed by (Exodus 33:22–23). Sometimes we don’t get the full picture — just enough to know God is near and moving. The “new thing” is already in motion even when we only see hints of it.
C.S. Lewis once wrote, “There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind.” It’s easy to cling to the comfort of what’s familiar, but sunsets teach us that the day’s beauty doesn’t vanish, it simply shifts into another form.
🌸 Small Signs of Renewal
God’s renewal doesn’t always look dramatic. Sometimes it’s hidden in everyday encouragements:
A coworker taking me out to lunch unexpectedly, reminding me that I am seen. A text from a friend across the ocean, his words bringing calm in the middle of my busyness. Even Happy Meals with TinyTAN figures tucked inside — small joys that remind me delight isn’t childish, it’s spiritual.
Each of these was a “stream in the wasteland,” small, ordinary rivers of joy in the middle of my desert moments.
As Maya Angelou said, “This is a wonderful day. I’ve never seen this one before.” Renewal begins when I notice what God has slipped into the present moment, right where I am.
Soul Insights
1. Endings are not failures, they are invitations.
It’s easy to see the close of a season as loss, but scripture reminds us that God uses endings to clear space for His renewal. Just as a sunset makes way for dawn, so too does one chapter’s close prepare us for something fresh. When I stood at the beach and watched the horizon shift, I realized I wasn’t just watching the day end; I was watching the next day’s light preparing to rise. Endings are not proof of God’s absence; they are evidence of His careful timing.
2. Renewal often begins beneath the surface.
Like streams running unseen underground, God’s work is often invisible at first. We may not notice the small ways He’s shaping our hearts, redirecting our desires, or preparing opportunities until later. This is why faith calls us to trust in what we cannot see, even when the wilderness feels barren. My own prayers at the shoreline reminded me that unseen currents are still moving, even if the waves on the surface look chaotic. Renewal is already in motion before we ever perceive it.
3. Comparison distorts God’s rhythm for our lives.
Looking left and right at others’ milestones only breeds discouragement. Scripture calls us to fix our eyes on God’s unique timing for us, not on another’s path. While some may be married, raising children, or retiring, I’ve learned that my story unfolds differently — in God’s rhythm, not the world’s. The ocean never rushes its tide; it comes in and goes out at its appointed time. My task is not to compare but to trust the tide of my own life.
4. Joy is not an accessory; it is a discipline.
The world says youth fades, but God renews joy day by day when we choose to delight in Him. Joy doesn’t just happen; it’s cultivated by seeking beauty in music, creativity, friendships, and nature. When I listen to BTS or watch a sunset, it’s not trivial — it’s a holy act of receiving God’s gift of delight. Joy trains the soul to remember that God is still good, even when circumstances shift. Practiced joy is what keeps the soul light, no matter what the calendar says.
5. Legacy is built one choice at a time.
The “new thing” God is doing is never just for today, it’s meant to ripple outward into tomorrow. Every act of faith, generosity, prayer, or creativity plants seeds that others will one day harvest. My writing, my prayers for a very close friend, even my simple hospitality in small group all build something larger than I can see. Legacy doesn’t arrive with one grand gesture; it grows through small daily choices. To live faithfully today is to leave a blessing for tomorrow.
🌟 Reflective Questions
Here are three questions to bring into your own prayer or journaling:
1. Where do I sense something ending in my life right now?
2. Where do I see small “streams in the wasteland” — signs of new life springing up?
3. What fears keep me from embracing God’s invitation to something new?
Final Thoughts
God’s “new thing” is rarely loud, but it is always faithful. The ocean reminded me that His voice is like roaring waters (Revelation 14:2), steady and sure. He isn’t limited by my timeline, my plans, or even my imagination.
Philippians 1:6 assures us: “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” That means I don’t have to strive to manufacture renewal; I just have to notice it and step into it.
The God who paints the horizon is painting your tomorrow. Watch for His colors.
Your Turn
Spend a few minutes this week at the edge of your own “shore.” That might mean journaling, praying on your commute, or simply sitting still long enough to notice. Ask God: “Where is Your new thing springing up in my life?” Then write it down — because tomorrow, it will be the evidence you look back on.
© 2025 Amelie Chambord

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