I am thrilled with the feeling of acheivement tonight…

I left youth floating on air and was nearly giggling with delight before I reached the privacy inside my dear little Belinda car.

If anyone had been with me, I’m sure they’d have said I glowed as I drove home.

So, what was extraordinary about the evening, that has me so excited?

Nothing. Nothing at all was different from any other evening, but it was the last one.

After eight summers, I have officially decided to resign from my career of youth baseball, and tonight was my last game.

As the sounds of my youth group socializing faded behind me, I waited for the regret to kick in. A little bit of uncertainty at least, about whether I should maybe sign up again next spring, just one more year?

But I didn’t feel any indecision, or regret, or nostalgia.

Rather, each step I took away from there, toward my car, felt like I was stepping out into a new chapter of life.

In a sense, leaving youth and moving forward in life is a new, uncharted chapter.

But it’s EXCITING!!!

So often, chapters end and I hold on as tightly as I can, only hearing the sound of the closing door as the finality of all the good within the room I am now barricaded from.

But finality is not always bad!

My friends, I realized tonight, closing a door is sometimes the best thing we can do for ourselves.

Walking to my car tonight, I felt increasingly free. Conciously stepping out of that phase of my life and closing that door allows me to be open to the next doors God would open.

It takes courage to step out of our cozy little familiar rooms, into the hallway, and close the door behind ourselves.

But what if we were stuck in that room? What if that place is hindering us from reaching our full potential according to God’s purpose for our life? What if He intends for us to thrive elsewhere?

A chapter ending is not always finality. It may become a crucial launching pad in your story.

But sometimes we need to be willing to close one chapter before God will open the next.

So – I have officially resigned from youth baseball. Eight summers of it were sufficient for one who doesn’t like the sport, and over the years, my place there was fading.

Young teen me was the life of the party… to one of the group… to an “”older girl,” with no peers to connect with, so I tried to become a sort of “big sister” to those insecure 15-year-olds. Now the youngest youth girls barely even know who I am anymore, my “little friends” are grown up and dating, and everyone seems to know how to go about their routine whether I’m in my spot or not.

To everything there is a season… including a time to step through the doorway and move forward.

So I played my last game tonight, and enjoyed the evening more immensely than I have in years!

Closing doors takes courage, but it is necessary before we can experience positve change.