The Gift of Disruption

“Sometimes God shatters what we thought was whole so that we can become truly complete.” —Unknown.

Everything was going great.  I was approaching ten years of serving as the lead pastor of a church I loved and had poured my heart and soul into.  

Sure, there were challenges, but by every way that you could measure success, things were going swimmingly.  Worship attendance, giving, and membership were at all-time highs.  For a church that was nearly 130 years old, I was serving during its most significant moment of growth and community impact.  

And then I began to feel the inextricable, troubling sense that I needed to leave.  I didn’t understand it, but I decided to at least explore the possibility.  

Months later, I received a call to serve my current church, and to make what some folks thought was a foolish move, halfway across the country.  I have to be honest, I had more than a few moments of doubt about it, too.  

I remember sitting at my desk one day after that job offer, staring at a blank page in my journal. Without quite realizing it, I wrote, "Maybe this is what it feels like when God moves the furniture."

Not long after that, I read the words from Proverbs 16:9 during my devotional time: “The human mind plans the way, but the Lord directs the steps.” I realized that what felt like a disruption might actually be direction. It wasn’t comfort I needed; it was courage to trust the Spirit's redirection.

We like to think of God as a comforter—and indeed, God is. But just as often, God is a disturber of our comfortable patterns. The divine call often arrives not as a soothing whisper, but as a holy interruption. 

Abraham was settled when God said, “Go.” Saul was confident when the light struck him blind. The disciples were casting nets when Jesus invited them to leave everything behind. Disruption, it seems, is one of God’s favorite instruments of grace.

We don’t usually recognize it that way at first. Disruption feels like loss, failure, confusion, or disappointment. It dismantles the plans we’ve built and the identities we’ve clung to. Yet beneath the chaos, something sacred stirs. God unsettles us not to harm us, but to reorient us—to break open the shells that keep us from growing.

When Saul was knocked to the ground on the road to Damascus, he lost not just his sight but his certainty. In those three days of blindness, his old self died so that something new could be born. The same is true for us. Every disruption carries the potential for resurrection if we are willing to let go of what was and trust that God is still leading us forward.

Disruption is often where our deepest transformation begins. It’s where comfort gives way to calling, where control gives way to surrender, and where self-assurance gives way to faith. What feels like an ending may, in time, prove to be an invitation to live differently—to listen more closely, love more freely, or follow more faithfully.

If your life feels disrupted right now—if your plans have unraveled or the path ahead is uncertain—know this: grace often travels in disguise. God’s newness rarely arrives neatly wrapped. Sometimes it comes as a holy mess. But even in the disarray, God is already at work, reshaping you into something more whole, more free, more true.

Prayer

God of new beginnings,
when my plans crumble and my path disappears,
help me to see Your hand at work in the disruption.
Give me the courage to release what was,
the faith to follow where You lead,
and the peace to believe that every ending can become a beginning in You.
Amen.

Reflection Questions

1. When has a disruption in your life ultimately led to growth or transformation?

2. What might God be trying to teach or reveal in your current season of uncertainty?

3. How can you practice trust when the familiar gives way to the unknown?