Between Seasons: Learning to Find Contentment in Transition

By: Phoebe Vanheyningen

Disappointment has a way of sneaking up on me. It arrives quickly, uninvited, and bringing with it a swarm of doubts and frustrations about my current season of life. I can be in a supposedly joyful season—one I prayed for, one I thought God wanted for me—and the faintest twinge of discontentment will throw me off balance. The first time I truly felt this was during my freshman year at Hillsdale. It was late September, just beginning to feel like fall, the most beautiful time of year at my dream school, and I was suddenly struck with a crushing wave of disappointment. It just wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I had been certain God had called me to Hillsdale, and I had fallen in love with it immediately: so why wasn’t it easy? Why wasn’t it perfect like I expected? Why was it hard to discern friendships? Why did I already want to change my major? Why did I say that silly thing and make that mistake? Why was Saga not manna from heaven? If I’m following His will, why can’t transition simply bring joy?  

This question became a large part of my prayer life in college and follows closely into my post-grad adventures. I loved my time at Hillsdale and, while it was far from easy, each transitional period came to an end, whether it was academic years or friend group turnover, and I settled into my new season of life. However, I can’t seem to shake the thought that the next season will be different—that if I prayerfully step into a new season, seeking God’s direction and trusting His timing, my obedience should yield ease, and my transitions should be smooth. Inevitably, I find myself disappointed by an unmet expectation, a grief for a bygone season, or a longing for a season that might’ve been. And yet, I have never been promised an effortless transition or a perfect season. I have only been assured of the listening ear of an attentive Father. So, though I am still no expert, here are my favorite ways to move through the transitional blues, disappointments, and frustrations with honesty, grace, and faith: 

1. Let yourself feel it all, even if you don’t know why.  

Disappointment doesn’t always have a clear source, at least in the beginning. Sometimes it’s a subtle ache of a past season’s end, or a quietly building conglomerate of proven misconceptions. If you start to feel down, allow it. God did not create humans to be simple—we are physically, emotionally, and spiritually complex. To deny negative emotions in favor of a forced happiness is robbing yourself of what it means to be human. So, if you find yourself only listening to upbeat music for weeks on end or booking your schedule to its capacity, especially in seasonal transitions, pause and ask: am I distracting myself from something I need to feel?  

2. Create comfort and order where you can. 

Make sure you’re doing the things that help you feel settled and regulated in your new season. Clean your room. Do your laundry. Buy flowers for your desk. Make your favorite breakfast.  

I love making monthly “wish lists” filled with simple joys, activities, ideas, and desires for the weeks ahead. Some items are monthly repeats, some are new or exploratory, some are seasonal traditions, and many are things I can do alone. It’s a way of intentionally “romanticizing” your life, as cliché as it sounds. It can often be an incredibly effective way to get me out of a funk. A list of things you love to do is a grounding and beautiful thing to turn to when you need a little pick-me-up.  

3. Invite God into the mundane.  

Transitions often lead to spiritual dryness, and the only way around is through. My favorite form of devotion in dryness is consciously letting Jesus help me in every daily act. The Lord is not above helping you find a parking spot, write an email, or decide which walking route to follow. When our wills in the mundane are united with God’s, the frustration, discouragement, disappointment, and even spiritual dryness we can experience during transitional seasons become opportunities for reflection, prayer, and, ultimately, thanksgiving for the experience that is being human. In the end, the aches and discomforts of transition are growing pains, proving to us that we are constantly being molded and shaped by a God who does not want us to be simple, but to be beautiful.  

Phoebe Vanheyningen ‘25

I'm a Hillsdale alum who is passionate about everything beautiful: music, art, trees, you name it I probably love it. While I was at Hillsdale, I was involved in many campus activities, but my favorite moments were spent making dinner with my friends and staying up too late talking in one of our cars. I currently live in Delaware working for a collegiate educational nonprofit, and find joy in bringing my Hillsdale education onto mainstream college campuses.