Trusting God in the In-Between
Coming Home to Be Known
When Claire Glass packed up her life in Michigan to move back to Illinois, her heart was full of conflicting emotions. She was grieving the loss of her dad, trying to support her mom and sister through their own heartbreak, and longing for something she couldn’t quite name—connection, stability, and a sense of belonging.
She wanted to be near her mom, to help shoulder the weight of loss. But beneath that sense of responsibility was a deeper desire: to be fully present in her family’s lives, to really know her nieces and nephews, and to build something lasting with her mom and siblings in the wake of so much change.
What she didn’t expect was how lonely it could feel to start over. The ache of grief followed her to every new church and community group she tried. People were kind, but there wasn’t the depth or safety she craved. “ I just didn’t feel known,” Claire remembers. “It was like I was showing up, but not really part of anything.”
Then, a conversation her mom had at BSF changed everything.
God’s Presence in the Smallest Details
When her mom mentioned to a friend that they were looking for a new church, the friend suggested Center Church. On their first Sunday, Claire was immediately struck by a sense of belonging. Before the service even started, she saw a familiar face—a family friend who had known her dad. In the middle of a season that felt disorienting, that one recognition felt like a lifeline.
Then, as worship began, she froze. The opening chords of “Goodness of God,” a song that had been deeply personal in her journey of faith, filled the room.
“I just remember weeping,” she said. “It felt like the Lord saying, ‘You are seen. You are known. I am here.’ It was such a sacred moment, like God was welcoming me home.”
Later, Pastor Mark introduced himself and remembered her name when she came back the next Sunday. “That told me this was a church where people didn’t just attend,” she said. “It was a place where people truly wanted to know you.”
Finding Her Place
Even with that sense of welcome, finding her footing in community didn’t happen overnight. Claire often wrestled with feeling in-between—too old for the young adults group but not quite fitting with young marrieds.
But God provided. She quickly connected with Maggie Koenig, and Mack Ryan, and soon found herself surrounded by a group of young adults who made space for honesty and vulnerability. She began to share pieces of her story—about losing her dad, about longing for connection, and about trusting God in seasons that didn’t make sense.
“There was something sacred about being able to share the hard things and still feel loved,” Claire says. “That group reminded me that we’re not meant to walk through life alone.”
Grief, Trust, and the Holidays
The holidays are bittersweet for Claire. Her dad’s absence is always felt, but so is the deep gratitude for the memories he left behind. One Christmas tradition in particular brings both comfort and tears: a recording of her dad reading Luke 2 that the family listens to together every Christmas morning before opening presents.
“It’s painful,” Claire admits, “but it’s also such a blessing. Hearing his voice is this incredible gift. It reminds me that love lasts, even when life changes.”
That tension—between gratitude and grief—is something Claire knows well. There’s the comfort of knowing her dad is whole with Jesus, but also the ache of his absence. She’s learned that it’s okay to live in that “in-between” space, where joy and sorrow mingle. “It’s not either-or,” she says. “It’s both-and. We celebrate and we grieve, and God meets us right there.”
Grief, she says, is something you don’t know how to walk through until you’re in it. And in that unknown, God has proven Himself faithful. “I prayed for my dad’s healing,” she said, “but I realized I wanted wholeness for him more. And I know that eternity with Jesus gave him that.”
Lamentations 3 has become her anchor, especially its reminder that even when the worst happens, God’s faithfulness never changes. “Trusting who God is—that He’s good, that He’s faithful, that His plan is better than mine—has carried me,” she says. “Even in the in-between, even in the questions and the tears, He is there. And that changes everything.”
The Ache of Unmet Desires
For Claire, grief hasn’t only been about losing her dad. It’s also about longing—longing for a husband,a family of her own, for dreams that haven’t yet come to pass. These aren’t shallow wishes; they’re deep hopes that sit tenderly in her heart, and their absence has often felt like another kind of loss.
“These are the places where I’ve had to learn to trust God’s plan over mine,” she says. “I believe my life, exactly as it is, is ordained by Him. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still feel the ache. There are days when the loneliness is real, when I wonder what God is doing, when I have to fight to believe that His timing and His ways are good.”Remembering the ways that He has been faithful in the past, the “Ebenezer moments,” she says, have helped encourage and establish that God knows exactly what He is doing in her life and cares about the details.
She’s learning that trusting God doesn’t mean silencing her desires or pretending they don’t exist. Instead, it looks like bringing them honestly before Him, again and again—even when nothing changes.
The honesty of the Psalms has become a companion in this season. She takes comfort in David’s words that don’t shy away from struggle but always circle back to hope. “Both are true,” Claire says. “Life is hard, and God is good. I don’t have to choose one or the other.”
When Identity Gets Stripped Away
Athletics have always been part of Claire’s story. From her early days as an active kid to playing college basketball, and later competing in more than 30 triathlons, movement was her outlet, her passion, and, if she’s honest, part of her identity.
Then came an injury in 2022—a broken collarbone that sidelined her for months. The sudden stillness felt like hitting a wall. Training had been woven into every rhythm of her life, and suddenly, that structure disappeared.
“It forced me to ask, ‘Who am I without this?’” Claire says. “If I’m not racing, if I’m not training, if I’m not achieving the next goal, what does that say about me?”
It was in that frustrating season of forced rest that God began to do transformative work. Claire found herself face-to-face with the truth of where her identity really belonged. “God reminded me that my identity is in Him alone,” she says. “He can take away anything—relationships, plans, even the people and things we love most—and He is still good. He is still trustworthy.”
That realization shifted something in her when it came to triathlon. The early morning rides, the race-day adrenaline, the camaraderie of teammates—those things still light her up. But they no longer define her. “I enjoy it, but I hold it loosely,” she says. “It’s not who I am. It’s just something I get to do and love. If it all went away tomorrow, I’d be okay because I know who I am in Christ.”
Learning to Be Fully Known
When Center Stories was announced, Claire felt an unmistakable nudge from God to volunteer. “Honestly, my first thought was, ‘Oh no, not me,’” she says with a laugh. The idea of opening up about her grief, unmet desires, and faith journey felt uncomfortable.
But as she prayed, that quiet prompting from God only grew stronger—a steady whisper that this was something He was asking her to do. “I knew it wasn’t about me,” she says. “It was about what God has done in my life—and if sharing that could encourage even one person, then it was worth the discomfort.”
For Claire, saying yes to Center Stories wasn’t just participation—it was obedience. It was a step toward deeper vulnerability, deeper courage, and deeper trust in what God could do through her story. “I’ve learned that vulnerability isn’t weakness,” she says. “It’s where God shows up the most.”
Hope for the Hurting
Looking back, Claire sees that every season of loss, longing, and uncertainty has been an invitation to deeper intimacy with Jesus. “Being fully known by Him—knowing that He sees every part of me and loves me still—that’s what sustains me.” And while she doesn’t have all the answers, she’s certain of this: God’s faithfulness doesn’t waver. “Even if life doesn’t go the way I planned, even if I never get the things I long for, God is still good. I can trust Him with my story.”
An Invitation
If you’re walking through grief, wrestling with unmet desires, or just feeling stuck in the in-between, you’re not alone. At Center Church, we would love to walk alongside you—to pray for you, pray with you, or simply listen. Reach out anytime at care@centerchurch.live.

