Old Ways Won't Open New Doors
It’s funny how life has a way of teaching us lessons, even through the most mundane moments. Yesterday, my wife and I found ourselves in a disagreement over an old couch. While we both agreed it was time for an upgrade, I wanted to repurpose and relocate it—find a new corner in the basement where it could still serve some purpose. My wife, however, had other plans: toss it.
I argued it still had some life left in it, but she saw something I didn’t. It wasn’t just about the couch. It was about letting go. That peeling, worn-out sofa served its purpose for a season, and now its time had passed. It wasn’t until later that I realized how much this moment mirrored other areas of my life.
Holding On vs. Moving Forward
For the past few years, I’ve been clinging to things I should’ve let go of a long time ago—dreams, roles, and relationships that served their purpose in one season but no longer fit in the new. For over 20 years, I poured myself into serving a church, and for the past 3 ½ years, I wrestled with planting a new one. I’ve entertained ideas of opening a restaurant and questioned whether I’d outgrown certain relationships.
I’ve been guilty of trying to patch old things with new ideas, hoping they’d somehow fit together. But then I remembered the parable of the new cloth and the old garment in Luke 5:36-39. It says:
"No one takes cloth off a new coat to cover a hole in an old coat. Otherwise, he ruins the new coat, and the cloth from the new coat will not be the same as the old cloth."
The lesson is clear: new things can’t thrive when forced into old spaces. You can’t cling to what was and still expect to fully embrace what could be.
Forced Renovations
This year has been a season of undeniable change for my wife and me. As we celebrated her 50th birthday and our 25th wedding anniversary, we reflected on our journey—the “Four Rings”: the engagement ring, the wedding ring, the suffering, and the rediscovering.
In some ways, this year felt like a Jubilee—a time of release and restoration. But restoration rarely comes without disruption. Earlier this year, a flood damaged every floor of our home, forcing us into renovations we’d been putting off. It was inconvenient, frustrating, and honestly, overwhelming at times. But the process reminded me of something profound: sometimes, God has to force us into the renovations we’ve been avoiding.
The same goes for our personal lives. Change is inevitable, and growth is optional.
Learning to Embrace Change
As I look back on 2024 and ahead to 2025, I’m learning to let go of what no longer serves me. Like the couch, some things have simply run their course. Old dreams, worn-out habits, outdated ways of thinking—they all have a shelf life. Holding onto them only makes room for clutter, not growth.
But here’s the beauty in letting go: it creates space. Space for new dreams, healthier relationships, and a life aligned with God’s plan. Change is never easy, but it’s always necessary.
What About You?
What old “couch” are you still holding onto? Is it a relationship that’s run its course, a career that no longer fulfills you, or a mindset that’s holding you back? Maybe it’s time to stop patching the old and embrace the new.
Take it from someone who’s learning the hard way: change is good. It’s uncomfortable at first, but on the other side of it is transformation. Sometimes, God will nudge you to let go. Other times, He’ll flood your life and force the renovation. Either way, it’s all part of the process of becoming who you’re meant to be.
As we head into a new year, let’s commit to embracing change—not just begrudgingly, but with optimism and faith. Because just like a home renovation, the result is always worth the process.
Pull up a stool, my friend, and let’s toast to new beginnings. Here’s to the peeling couches we’re finally ready to toss and the beautiful spaces we’re about to build in their place.
Stop holding onto people and things just because you have history together.
