I first met Sheila Shirley when we moved to Washington state 20 years ago. Sheila was the “photo lady” at our local Walgreens. Because of my love of taking photos, I visited Sheila on a regular basis. In time we became friends. I met her husband, Dale, and they in turn met my wife, Wendy. Our paths would cross beyond my frequent trips to the photo counter.

When Dale and Shirley planned a celebration for their 50th wedding anniversary, they asked if I would officiate a renewal of vows ceremony. For me it was a commemoration of more than just their commitment. It was also a commemoration of how a friendship grows.

After 25 years as the “photo lady,” Sheila retired. Although my trips to our local drug store continued, it wasn’t quite the same. I retrieved my iPhone images in much the same way, but without the friendly interaction and personal touch. I missed seeing my friend.

Recently, I stopped by Walgreens to pick up some pictures with which to create some homemade greeting cards. And there she was. I greeted Sheila with a big hug. Together we stood at the photo counter and caught up on family news. She told me about all the changes in her life after leaving the store. I told her how much I missed being the chaplain at the retirement community. We both agreed that letting go of something we loved doing was difficult even though it eventually becomes necessary.

Upon reflection I realized that retirement by definition requires passing the baton to someone else. For both Jews and Christians, the Scriptures provide us a peek at such baton passing. The Torah gives us a glimpse into the life of Moses and how he stood down to let Joshua step up. The same was true with Elijah and his apprentice Elisha. Something similar is seen in the New Testament with the Apostle Paul and his protégé Timothy. The time comes to let go and allow someone else the opportunity to take the lead and make their mark.

For the Christian perhaps the most striking example of passing the baton in the Bible is that of John the Baptist stepping aside to allow Jesus of Nazareth center stage. “He must increase and I must decrease,” the locust-eating prophet declared. For John it was an act of both maturity and humility. His mission had been accomplished and it was time to release the reins. His role had been as a forerunner to the one who would come after him.

Knowing when to call it quits is hard. When you especially enjoy what you do, it is all the more difficult. Letting go of what is familiar is never easy. In fact, there is a real reluctance to conclude a chapter when you’re not quite sure what the next section in your life story will include.

As I look back over the past two years since I retired from Covenant Living at the Shores, I can’t help but celebrate the opportunities I’ve been afforded. There have been numerous experiences I’ve enjoyed that never would have been possible had I just continued to do what I’d been doing for ten years.

It’s like passing the baton in a relay race, once you let go of the baton you can catch your breath and watch the next runner succeed. And from what I’ve been told the chaplain staff at “The Shores” is thriving as they build upon the foundation I and my predecessor had the privilege of laying.

Before we parted after our random meeting at Walgreens that day, I asked Sheila if we could take a selfie. To my delight, she agreed. Our smiles say it all. It documented the degree to which we value time together in spite of life’s changes. That picture is worth a thousand words. (But my editor only gives me seven hundred).

Guest columnist Greg Asimakoupoulos is a former chaplain at Covenant Living at the Shores in Mercer Island.