By Samantha Shrock
I believe that God gives us glimpses of hope for the future in the form of gifts that were never meant to stay.
When a gift enters our lives, our stewardship of that gift exposes the state of our heart. That honest and vulnerable posture positions us toward an anointing. Sometimes, the gift in front of us isn’t the destination… it’s the catalyst.
We often measure the merit of a season, chapter, or opportunity by its longevity. If it lasts, it’s successful; if it ends, it was a failure. We file losses and rejections in the “mistake” folder of our brains. When that file thickens, confidence withers. Identity becomes entangled with failure, and we conform to labels—many of which revolve around being “too much” or “not enough”.
What if God wants to reframe our perception of failure?
We serve a God who is fundamentally incapable of failure. 2 Timothy 2:13 is a healing balm for the heart: “If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for he cannot deny Himself.” While our sinful nature predisposes us to failure, the Lord’s response to a repentant heart is always redemption. Not only is He faithful to forgive, but He blesses His children with good and perfect gifts (James 1:7). His power is made perfect in our weaknesses (2 Corinthians 12:9), and he turns the enemy’s corruption into testaments of His goodness (Genesis 50:20).
Every good and perfect gift is from the Lord, but not every gift is permanent. Many blessings serve for an appointed season, awakening senses of discernment or renewal within us. Even if the gift itself doesn’t translate into the next season, its impact on our hearts endures as evidence of its purpose.
Sometimes, He removes a gift—not to punish, but to protect us and align our hearts with His plan. When we develop a sense of entitlement to a gift and strive to control its role, we risk worshipping the gift instead of the Giver. A rightly ordered heart worships the Lord by handling a gift with humility and gratitude, understanding that He alone is faithful to supply every need (Philippians 4:19).
God blesses us by fostering growth through responsible stewardship. This stewardship is nurtured in the overflow of our intimacy with Christ (Matthew 6:33). If we reverse the roles by seeking nourishment outside of the Giver, we idolize the gift. When a gift competes with His attention, peace is naturally disrupted. Our spirits are wired to find contentment in Him—whether we resist it or embrace it.
In His protective love, God is jealous for our devotion and affection. He knows how a gift at the wrong time could compromise our growth. Though we view loss through the lens of grief—and rightly so—loss is also a calibration to a higher calling. Though we struggle to make sense of it in the moment, the true gift is not always in the original form, but in our realignment with the Lord. He intervenes and preserves the dignity and impact of a gift on our hearts while drawing us closer to Him.
If the Lord removes a gift for a season and intends to restore it, He is the ultimate Archivist. He is fully capable of renewal. We know that He withholds no good thing from those who walk uprightly (Psalm 84:11), so if the Lord removes what seems good, its role in our lives is no longer beneficial for the time. Worshipping the Lord even when we don’t understand—remembering that He is near to our broken hearts (Psalm 145:18)—invites a posture of gratitude for His unseen mercies. If He promises hope and a future (Jeremiah 29:11), we know that any pain we feel in the present will not rival the joy of His perfect plan when it is revealed in full (Romans 8:18).
We are not exempt from natural consequences. Decisions in the flesh distance us from His perfect design. But that is precisely where His redemptive power enters the equation—and where our anointing often begins.
We are invited to abide in the joy of the Lord—joy that is disproportionate to circumstance, independent from outcome. A joy that praises and surrenders amid uncertainty. A joy that can coexist with pain. Not in spite of the pain–but because of the pain (James 1:2-4).
Through uncertainty, our lifeline becomes the hope of the cross. The finished work of Christ sets a symbolic precedent of sanctification: the finished work of perseverance. If spiritual maturity is the product of trial, then pain itself is also a gift. Though we’re surrounded by earthly uncertainty, we worship and rejoice in the certainty of Christ.
Blessings come and go, but He remains.
Glory to the Author and Perfecter of our faith.
Job 1:21: “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”
Samantha Shrock 