Shannon's Corner

  After the storm passes, there is often a sense of relief. The wind has died down. The urgency has eased.  The world feels quieter. And yet—everything is still changed. The snow remains. In some places, it is pristine and brilliant, catching the light and inviting awe. In other places, it is smudged and dirty, marked by footprints, plows, and what the storm stirred up along the way. Both are true. Both belong. This is often what life transitions feel like after the initial upheaval. The decision has been made. The ending has happened. The diagnosis, loss, move, career shift, or identity change is no longer theoretical—it has arrived and moved through. But what remains is not nothing. What remains is a covering. The In-Between Is Not Empty Snow covers the ground completely. It doesn’t ask the earth to perform. It doesn’t demand immediate results. It simply  rests there . Transitions often invite us into a similar season—one that our productivity-driven culture doesn’t alw...