When Life Goes East — pt 2: Facing Relational Breakdown
By Dan Sheed
There’s a core truth to being human: we’re made for relationship. And yet, relationships are hard. We’re designed for connection, but often the thing we’re designed for is what hurts us most.
I’ve lived this: past romantic relationships that didn’t end well, friendships that quietly fell apart, unexpected blindsides from unmet expectations I didn’t even know were there. Sometimes a message notification from a certain name still makes my stomach drop.
We all carry stories like these — friendships lost, family tensions, the silence of unanswered messages.
In Scripture, this ache is pictured with one symbolic direction: east. To go east in the Bible is to move away from peace, presence, and connection — it’s the geography of exile. But God doesn’t abandon us there. He comes looking for us, inviting us back to repair and reconciliation.
The First Family Goes East
In Genesis 3, Adam and Eve disobey God and everything fractures. They hide, they blame, and ultimately, they’re sent east of Eden.
The pattern worsens with their sons, Cain and Abel — the first siblings in the Scriptures, and one murders the other. Both bring offerings to God, but only Abel’s is accepted. Cain’s jealousy grows into rage. God warns him:
"Sin is crouching at your door; it desires to have you, but you must rule over it." — Genesis 4:7
Cain doesn’t rule over it — his jealousy erupts in violence.
“So Cain went out from the Lord’s presence and lived in the land of Nod, east of Eden.” — Genesis 4:16
Relational fracture pushes Cain even further east.
This repeats across Scripture — Joseph’s brothers, Saul and David, David’s sons. Sin crouches at the door of relationships, and too often, it wins.
What Lies Beneath
Pete Scazzero, in Emotionally Healthy Spirituality, talks about the "Iceberg Principle" — that most of our emotional life is hidden beneath the surface. If we don’t examine what’s beneath, those unresolved emotions drive our behaviour, often destructively.
For me, learning the Enneagram revealed I’m a 7 — my core fear is pain. I have avoided hard conversations, I prefer fun over conflict, and try to keep things light when I can sense it getting tense. But that avoidance is just unexamined emotion in disguise.
Scazzero writes:
“Conflict and problems are God’s way of moving us into maturity. Running away from conflict is running away from discipleship.”
Unspoken Boundaries
Next to hidden emotions is another breakdown factor: unspoken boundaries. In their book Boundaries, Cloud and Townsend write:
“Boundaries define us. They define what is me and what is not me.”
Without clear boundaries, relationships get tangled. Assumptions go unchallenged. Resentment grows. We need to get out of the world of assumptions — or even worse, ideals — with clarity.
Brené Brown says it best:
“To be clear is kind.”
Assuming others just know what we need, or expecting people to behave how we imagined — it sets us up for disappointment.
So when things break down, we must ask two important reflection questions:
What unexamined emotions are in me?
What boundaries did I fail to make clear?
That’s our side of the table to own.
Returning from the East
In Luke 15, Jesus tells the story of the Prodigal Son — a younger son who insults his father, leaves for a distant land, and squanders everything. He goes east.
But when he decides to return, his father runs to meet him:
“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him... he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.” — Luke 15:20
Yet there’s also the elder brother — sulking, resentful, refusing to celebrate. His bitterness mirrors Cain’s jealousy.
And here’s the sting: his resentment towards his brother also fractures his connection with the father.
As Alisha insightfully pointed out, “you can’t nurture intimacy with the Father while harbouring unforgiveness toward your brother.”
But the father comes to both sons — pursuing connection and clarity. This is the gospel: God reconciling us to Himself, and inviting us to do the same with others.
The Work of Peacemaking
Jesus said:
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.” — Matthew 5:9
Avoiding conflict doesn’t build peace; it just delays pain. True connection comes through the hard work of repair. Dan Allender writes in Bold Love:
“Conflict is the precondition to intimacy.”
Jesus models this with Peter. After Peter denies Him, Jesus creates a moment of restoration: “Do you love me?” — asked three times.
Reconciliation involves:
Confession: Owning what’s broken.
Forgiveness: Releasing the debt.
Rewriting the story: Not just restoring the past, but creating something new.
Miroslav Volf, in Exclusion and Embrace, says:
“Forgiveness flounders because I exclude the enemy from the community of humans and exclude myself from the community of sinners.”
We must never forget that every person we meet is an image bearer of God, and we ourselves are always living in the fractures of the Kingdom that is not-yet here. We are all living with sin crouching at our door. We can only reconcile when we see others — and ourselves — rightly.
Paul says:
“If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” — Romans 12:18
That’s our part — doing all we can to live at peace. For me, the test is simple: if I bump into that person in a supermarket, can I greet them warmly and mean it?
If not, there’s still work to do.
I’ve still got a few unresolved relationships — but I’m learning to examine my emotions, clarify boundaries, practice confession, forgiveness, and peace-making.
Because this is what God does for us.
The Way Home
If life has gone east for you in a relationship, start here:
Own your part:
What’s unexamined within you?
What boundaries remain unspoken?
Begin reconciliation:
Speak vulnerably and honestly.
Repent and forgive.
Build a new story of peace.
This is slow, intentional, often painful work. But the Father meets us on the driveway — running east to embrace us, welcoming us home.
Next week we’ll explore two tools for these conversations and how to practice hope in the midst of relational strain