Standing on the Edge of the Shadow
In John 13, the atmosphere at the Last Supper shifts from a shared meal to a profound sense of departure. When Jesus says, “Where I am going, you cannot come,” the room fills with the weight of the unknown. We see the disciples grappling with a terrifying transition: the person they built their lives around is leaving, and they are left standing on the edge of a shadow.
I am currently living in that “in-between” space. My life is a series of difficult goodbyes and daunting new beginnings. I am slowly letting go of a home I’ve loved in Los Angeles, even as I settle into a new life in Santa Barbara. I have moved from a long-held role at one hotel to a new position at another, only to find myself already facing the possibility of a different path. Even the car I’ve driven for over a decade, a vessel for years of my history, is likely being traded in. Like Peter, who desperately asked, “Lord, where are you going?” I find myself wanting to skip the uncertainty and jump straight to the resolution. I’ve never been good at having “pending” tasks.
In these shadows, my yellow Lab, Gus, has been my constant. He doesn’t offer grand promises like Peter tried to do. Instead, he simply stays with me. Whether I am nervous about a career shift or worried about the future, his steady presence is a quiet anchor.
Through this simple companionship, I am beginning to understand that God isn’t looking for me to be brave or perfectly put together. He is simply asking me to stay close. As I stand here, I realize how much of my identity was tied to the things I’m leaving behind. My heart is finally catching up to the truth that it’s okay to be scared of a new path, and to admit, as Fleetwood Mac sings:
“I’ve been afraid of changing ’cause I built my life around you.”
Alyssa Bellia