Ever a New Beginning – January 31, 1999
Sometimes endings bring sadness, longing, even regret. Whether finishing an especially good book we wish were longer, winding up a vacation that we would like to prolong, or facing the greater challenge of saying good-bye to a loved one, we often feel downcast by the end of things.
But our souls can take comfort in this truth: there is no ending that is not also a beginning. When the day draws to a close on one side of the globe, a new day is already dawning on another hemisphere. A mother sighing as her little boy’s curls pile up on the barbershop floor also understands that the occasion is a new beginning—a landmark in her son’s pathway of growth. When a ship pulls away from one harbor, leaving those on shore to sigh, “There she goes,” you can be sure that in another harbor people are anxiously waiting to call out for that same ship, “Here she comes!”
While we know what’s ending, we can rarely know what’s beginning. When a student finishes high school, we have the details: what classes she took, what grades she earned, what her diploma signifies. We do not know what is beginning in her life—where her chosen road will take her. When a man retires, he can quickly say how long he was employed, what his duties were, and who were his closest associates. What he does not know is the shape his new life will take, where he will find his satisfactions, or how he will contribute to his community.
Because we cannot see what is beginning, we may have a sense of emptiness. We may be aware only of the closing of one particular day, unmindful that a new day is indeed starting. Because we know so well that which is ending, we are keenly aware of what we will miss, and we rightly mourn its passing. But it is helpful to remember that, with every transition, something new is beginning.
Program #3624