I Don’t Do Hallways Well
“It's not so much that we're afraid of change or so in love with the old ways, but it's that place in between that we fear…. It's like being between trapezes. There's nothing to hold on to.”
—Marilyn Ferguson
Let me be honest—I don’t do hallways well.
Hallways are transitional. Unsettling. They’re not a place of arrival, and they’re certainly not a cozy space for staying. They’re in between. And if you're like me, you’d prefer to be somewhere—anywhere—with some sense of closure, certainty, or at least a clear direction.
But the hallway has its own lessons.
It’s the place between jobs. Between clarity and confusion. Between the diagnosis and the healing. Between a prayer and an answer. Between what was and what will be.
And it’s in that place where we often feel most exposed.
The Hallway Strips Us
In the rooms of life, we decorate. We define. We build little identities and routines. We tell ourselves we’re “settled.” But then life invites—sometimes forces—us into a hallway. And suddenly, we’re not the teacher, the parent, the leader, the spouse, the comfort zone dweller. We are just… there.
Naked.
The hallway has no props to hide behind. No walls to shield us. It’s just us and God.
“For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it.”
—1 Timothy 6:7 (NIV)
There’s something beautiful and terrifying about being reduced to nothing but need.
Hallways and Abiding
What if the hallway is one of the most intimate places we can meet God? What if it’s where He becomes not just the God of the destination but the God of the transition?
Jesus said:
“Abide in Me, and I in you.”
—John 15:4 (NKJV)
That’s not room-specific. That’s hallway-anchored. He’s not asking us to bloom where we’re planted—He’s asking us to abide even where we’re wandering.
Because in the hallway, we’re not meant to hold onto plans or roles or even peace as we define it.
We’re meant to hold onto Him.
What If This Is Normal?
We spend so much time resisting the hallway. Praying to get out of it. Wondering what’s wrong with us for being in it. But could it be that as long as we’re on earth, we’re always in a kind of hallway?
This world is not the final room. Even at our most “settled,” we are still passing through.
“For this world is not our permanent home; we are looking forward to a home yet to come.”
—Hebrews 13:14 (NLT)
Hallways remind us of that. And maybe that’s the point.
Reflections From the Hallway
Are you in a hallway right now? Don’t despise it—look for Jesus in it.
Are you feeling exposed? Ask the Lord to cover you with His presence.
Are you afraid of what’s next? Abide in the One who already knows.
Prayer
Lord, I confess—I don’t like the hallway. I don’t like not knowing. I don’t like feeling undone. But if You are in the hallway with me, then I am not lost. Help me to abide in You when I can’t see the next room. Strip away what I’ve hidden behind, and teach me to stand in the light of Your presence, fully known, fully loved. Amen.