Looking Back

“We remember the fish which we ate freely in Egypt, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic; but now our whole being is dried up; there is nothing at all except this manna before our eyes!” Numbers 11:5-6

“…and in their hearts they turned back to Egypt.” Acts 7:39

Those Egyptians! They couldn’t be satisfied with spiritual food; they wanted their old, carnal lives back! They forgot their slavery; they forgot the promises of God; they forgot His mighty work in their lives! Tsk, tsk. I would NEVER look back with such unthankfulness!

But I did, today, and realized I have been doing it for years. I looked back with an incredible yearning for what will never be again. Reading old cards and letters made me unbearably sad for friendships that have been lost and family members that have died. Sorting through old needlecraft projects, some unfinished, some never even begun, brought a flood of memories of sitting by the fireplace on rainy days, working cross stitches or hooking rugs as the kids played nearby. The memories are of joy, contentment, and blessings.

A few things I sorted were worth passing along, so my husband took these to a donation center. The rest of it—a fair amount of what defined my past—went in the trash.

Why would I throw away the tangible reminders of how it used to be? It is because I know these things are idols to me. Together, they form a stronghold called “the good old days.” They strangle me with their reminders that the happiest days are behind me—with their implication that I will never be THAT happy again.

The good-old-days idol keeps me from seeing the abundant life God gives here and now. It makes me feel old and useless. It blinds me to the expectant hope of heaven.

In my heart, I had turned back. It made me persistently gloomy, depressed and dejected.

The Lord had been speaking to me about joy and rejoicing for the last several weeks, and I’ve been praying that He would show me the missing piece that would help me understand. I think today’s experience might have been the answer to my prayer.

“Let it go. Those were the blessings for those days; I have new things for you. Bigger things. Better things. Eternal things. Watch for them. I’m going to show you things you’ve never seen, as you walk into a new life with Me, and I’ll use you in ways you haven’t been used before.”

I will keep my scrapbooks and family photos, for I believe those are important to share with my children. I may even write my legacy, the Christian heritage I bring to my family, as a witness to the generations to come. But I’m letting go of the stuff. The past can’t be brought into the present, except in the ways the past has shaped my present self.

This is not meant to be an indictment on what you do with your own past. It is merely my way of dealing with what had become an idol. For me, looking back was bondage. Looking ahead is freedom.

Father, forgive me for living as if what You did in the past is the best thing You will ever do. I gladly look forward to Your future plans for me.