The last year and a half has been rough for me. Between personal and business matters, life has felt like a chaotic storm. I’m finally coming out of the haze, and there’s lessons I learned during my time in the eye of the storm. Valuable lessons.
Most who read this blog know I don’t care for being back in Arizona. Stepping out in faith to move to San Francisco was rough. It was even harder – for me, anyway – to move back here to Arizona. Ultimately, I didn’t want to. But when God calls you somewhere, you go. I don’t want to get swallowed by a whale, nor do I want to miss out on what God has in store for us.
I’ve tried to have a positive attitude about being back here – but it’s been difficult. I hate the heat. I hate the desert. And I miss the Bay. Immensely. When we first moved back, I felt in the very core of my spirit that God was going to be calling us back to the Bay someday. I know that I know that I know. It’s going to happen. Someday.
The issue? I’ve been holding on so tightly to the way things were while we were out there that I can’t move forward to what God has for us up ahead. San Francisco was a season of learning and reshaping. My character was reshaped. Our family was reshaped. Everything in our lives was reshaped. And now that I’m here in Arizona, all I want to do is be back there. Back in the cool weather. Back in the City. Back where I feel I truly belong.
I’ve been so hung up on this notion that I’ve completely missed three important things:
God had something special for us there.
God is doing something special for us here.
God has something special for us after here.
When I was in San Francisco, I was so blinded by my homesickness for Arizona and my uncomfortablness in the Bay that I missed out on two years of cool weather, beautiful scenery, and awesome people – not to mention, I missed catching alot of what God was doing at the time. I was focused on the wrong things. I was focused on the old thing and not the new.
The same has been happening since I moved back here, only I’m actually recognizing it.
We can’t stretch far enough to embrace both our past and our future. We have to let go of the past, of the old ways, in order to reach the new.
“Behold, I will do something new,
Now it will spring forth;
Will you not be aware of it?
I will even make a roadway in the wilderness,
Rivers in the desert.” – Isaiah 43:19
We tend to cling to the familiar. What’s funny is that the unfamiliar will eventually become the familiar, and the new we wanted will become the unfamiliar. It’s a cycle, and through it all we have to live in the moment. We can reach and plan for the future, learn and cherish the past, but also cling to and embrace the now.
Savor the roses. Cherish the relationships. Glimpse the fleeting.
We have to let go to reach out. In what ways have you refused to let go of the past and reach forward to what is ahead?