Staying Seated Through Transition

Transition has a way of stirring the heart. It can feel like everything around us is shifting. Old rhythms fall away, new possibilities open up, and the familiar becomes unfamiliar. Even when the change is good, transition exposes the places within us that still long for certainty. And at this time of year, when the world invites us to strive, to achieve, to do better and be better, the pressure can settle quietly over the soul.

But the kingdom offers a very different way of moving through transition.

In Christ, our posture does not change.

We are seated with Him,

held in union,

resting where He rests.

Being seated is not a metaphor. It is our spiritual reality. The Father has placed us in Christ, and Christ is seated in the heavenly places. When Scripture says we are seated with Him, it is describing something established, not something we are trying to reach. We do not earn this seat. We do not maintain it through effort. We simply remain where the Father has placed us.

Rest is not something we achieve.

Rest is the natural result of allowing Him to love us.

Rest grows from proximity.

Rest forms when we stop trying to hold ourselves and allow Him to carry us.

And the Father is our protection.

Not our vigilance.

Not our strength.

Not our spiritual alertness.

We are safe because He holds us, not because we hold ourselves.

This is why the table in Psalm 23 becomes so significant in moments of transition. The table is not prepared once the tension lifts, nor after the shadows scatter. The table is set in the presence of everything that would unsettle the heart. The Father does not wait for calm before He invites us to sit. He seats us in the midst of movement. He anchors us inside the shifting landscape. The invitation is not to silence what surrounds, but to remain where Love has placed us. To stay at the table. To breathe. To let His presence become the atmosphere we inhabit.

The enemy cannot touch you at the table.

He can only try to draw you away from it.

His strategy in transition is simple.

He whispers fear.

He stirs pressure.

He invites self focus.

He hopes we will rise in our own strength instead of remaining in Jesus'.

He cannot alter what Jesus has completed. His aim is only to unsettle the heart, to shift your awareness from the One who holds you to the weight of what surrounds you. The moment your gaze moves from Jesus, striving begins its familiar pull. But the power was never in your vigilance. It has always been in your nearness to Him.

But love is the atmosphere of the Father.

Love is who He is.

Love surrounds us whether we feel it or not.

Love moves toward us even when we struggle to receive it.

Many find it difficult to rest in love, not because love is distant, but because safety has not yet settled deeply within them. Yet the Father does not wait for certainty to form before He draws near. His love remains steady. Constant. Ever present. Transition does not change His posture toward us. It simply reveals where His nearness is beginning to land more deeply in the heart.

And this new year does not need to become a season of pressure.

It does not need to become a list of goals or improvements.

You are not being asked to perform.

You are not being asked to do more or be more.

Instead, the Father invites you to ask a different question.

What can I allow Him to carry this year.

Where can I trust Him in a new way.

Where can I let Him love me as I am.

Where can I remain seated instead of striving.

Transition held inside love becomes sacred ground.

It becomes a place where nearness deepens.

Where confidence grows.

Where striving falls away and rest becomes a lived reality.

Where we discover again that our safety has never been in our ability to remain steady.

It has always been in the One who holds us without wavering.

So stay seated.

Stay near.

Keep your eyes on Jesus.

Remain in the love that already surrounds you.

The table is still prepared.

The Father is still present.

Your seat has not moved.

And no enemy can enter the place where love is the atmosphere and the Father is your protection.