Changing chapters

October 7, 2026

By Jeff Becraft

 

At about 7:00 a.m. this morning, as Brenda was heading out the door to go to work, she says to me, “Well, this was the last day last year that the hummingbirds were here.”

Shortly after she leaves in the early morning twilight, I see a hummingbird hovering around one of the feeders, so I call her and let her know. She asks me, “Are they just feeding or are they dogfighting?” Because when they just start to feed, that usually means they are getting ready to head out. I didn’t even get to see that bird very clearly because it was still semi-dark.

Shortly after that, the feeders just sat dormant. It made me kind of sad. Just a few weeks ago, the feeders were a flurry of activity. It was the closing of a chapter.

(Some chapters that close in our lives feel more like the slamming shut of a book – losing a loved one, facing a tragedy, getting a chronic medical diagnosis, being laid off from a job, etc. Those are hard no matter how you slice it. There is a much, much deeper grief in these situations. It is okay and good and right to grieve. For anyone who is facing that right now, be heartened that you still have a lot to offer to those around you, you are still dearly loved, and there are other chapters to write in your life.)

As I stuck my head out the front door, I just looked around at the front porch.  I thought about how just a few weeks ago, hummingbirds were darting back and forth and having dogfights and everything else. Then I looked at the two rocking chairs that Brenda and I sometimes sit in… and they were empty. I then thought about when the grandkids come to visit and they have their own rocking chairs out there. Something that has become kind of a tradition is when the grandkids stay with us and they get up, they go out with Grams (who is a phenomenal grandmother) on the front porch, and they have a grand ol’ time with Grams… right there first thing in the morning… talking, telling stories, laughing… and watching hummingbirds.

But this morning, there were no grandkids on the front porch, no Brenda, no hummingbirds.

Now, I am probably more reflective and sentimental than is for my own good, but I think about things. And it was just kind of a sadness that it looked like the hummingbirds will be packing up and leaving today… and that means the end of a chapter. But it also made me reflect on the last several months – all the enjoyment we have had in watching the birds. But just not the hummingbirds… all kinds of experiences over the last several months – the getting together with family, the camps and retreats I got to be part of, the visiting of grandkids… all that began to run through my mind.

And I was extremely thankful.

So today, as one chapter ends, it means another chapter is beginning. It is a good lesson for us to remember to make the most of each chapter and to make the most of each day, because no day in this world is going to last forever, and the experiences of this day are not going to last forever.

But now as the sun has come fully up and this day is in full swing, there are other experiences to be had, more people to be loved, and other blessings to be appreciated.

 

Jeff Becraft is the Director of Our Place of Hope(opens in new tab) located in Columbia, South Carolina, where people find encouragement to regain meaning, purpose, and hope for their lives. Jeff has dedicated much of his life to helping shift the vision of people’s lives. If you would like Jeff to speak to your group or event, you can connect with him at  [email protected](opens in new tab).