Forgetting the Former Things

Remember early spring last year? The strange, new words that popped into our vocabularies: COVID-19, pandemic, social distancing. It is a snapshot in our family’s story.

We were putting last minute touches on our daughter’s wedding and thought surely this will all blow over before the April wedding date. What a surprise for us as we tearfully invited eight guests for the ceremony in our backyard. We grieved this disappointment and lost celebration of family and community. Too many others lost so much more – and we grieved with them too. 

Isaiah 43 became such an anchor for me ever since. The beautiful opening verses consoled me as the world seemed to spin out of control, “Do not fear; I have redeemed you … I have summoned you by name.” Then, continuing, the chapter references the surety of passing through rivers and fire (not if!), and his protection along the way.

Although the last year caught many of us by surprise, it did not surprise our sovereign Lord. The verses above seemed to jump off the page as an invitation for me to trust him even deeper with each day’s news and the dissolving familiar rhythms of life. Always the optimist, I was embracing the thought of following God into new directions. I easily thought of a few things I was ready to forget and leave in the past.

Then recently within the span of a few days, I received news I was no longer needed in two different ministry roles – both dear to my heart and soul, and both a part of my summer calendar for years. No explanation given really. Surprisingly, the sting was deeper than I anticipated. 

Immediately, my thoughts went to these verses, and I was challenged to “forget the former things; do not dwell on the past.” As I pondered the verse, I was tempted to bury the feelings and skip right over to look for the “new thing”. But the feelings kept bubbling up and my mind began to wander on the puzzling reasons for the release. I knew this pattern well. To not take notice and invite God into this grief would give access to a bitter root that quickly takes over. 

Through conversations with God, I’ve accepted the loss and even see some benefits to the release of responsibilities. But even more important, my hands are opening wider to the things God does have for me. I’m slowly wading into the “streams in the wasteland” and into new territory.

Key Quotation

To not take notice and invite God into this grief would give access to a bitter root that quickly takes over.

Question

What are the old things you sense God is asking you to release? Are you inviting God into the feelings that are associated with the change?

Joy Beless, The Invitation Project