Each year, I schedule an appointment with my eye doctor. I’ve been wearing prescription glasses ever since I was a kid, and truthfully, my vision gets worse every single year. The glasses I had from the previous year begin to fade, and I once again find myself sitting in the doctor’s chair asking if option 1 or 2 looks clearer. The exam is followed by the ordering of new glasses to accommodate the updated prescription. Each time I put on the new glasses, everything seems crisper: the skies clearer, trees more defined, human faces more emotive.
This narrative remains constant year to year, there are not many plot twists or alterations. Buried in the routine is a small plan I make. As I am substituting in my new glasses, I have a moment with my old glasses where I put them into a drawer in our house. Call it what you like, but I am always struck by the thought, “What if I need these in the future?” or “What if something happens to my new pair of glasses and I need to go back to these in the interim?” These what-ifs have led me to keep many a pair of outdated glasses. Though I rarely, if ever, return to them, they are ready and waiting for me in the drawer.
Now, in all the years of this process, I have only ever pulled out an old pair one time. One of the small screws of my current pair fell out and I needed to remove them until I could get a replacement screw. This was the moment I had prepared for, I knew exactly where my old pair of glasses was. I quickly (but not too quickly because I don’t see great without my glasses) made my way upstairs and into the drawer where I knew the old glasses rested, opened the case, stretched the frame out, and put them on my face.
And at that moment something astonishing happened. I realized they were useless. I couldn’t see out of them. My vision had worsened, and the old prescription offered no relief for my blurry vision. I had believed that using this relic of the past would come in handy, and yet my body had moved on from it. What was handy only a year or two ago had become outdated and stale, serving me no better than not wearing glasses at all.
As I reflected on this, I realized that I am prone to do this in other areas of my life. I am prone to go back to something in the past, hoping it will bring renewed vision and meaning to my current circumstances. A safety blanket that will make circumstances make sense again. Whether it be a place we haven’t been in years, a relationship that was once close but now is distant and cold, a mantra or rally cry that defined a past season. When our current circumstances start to muddy, and we are seeking clarity, one of the places we will inevitably look is in our past. We look back to how things were, longing for the experiences we had then.
I believe all of us are plagued by our habits of looking back. We either look back too little and lose perspective on where we are, or we look back too often and get lost in the world that once was and miss the world that is.
Don’t get me wrong, I am all for reflecting on memories, lessons learned, and experiences endured. Looking back can often give instruction on how we live in the present. It allows us to think about our current through the lens of past acquired knowledge. Rather, the danger comes when we try to make today like it was back then. When we try and return to the person we once were and the experiences we once had. What makes this dangerous is that you and I were never meant to stay in the same season or maturity. We were created to grow, bloom, and flourish over time. We become more like Jesus over time. Therefore, time is our friend, not enemy.
A remarkable thing happened the other day: I went into a Barnes and Nobles with my wife. That wasn’t the remarkable piece, what was unique is that we hadn’t been in this specific store in over a year. For one reason or another we had not returned, and as we walked in we immediately commented on how good it was to be back, the smell of the books, the sounds of the coffee shop brewing a fresh pot, all the new releases lining the front shelves. As we walked the shelves, we stopped and realized how much had changed in our lives since the last time we were in the store. Sure, there are material things that have changed: I’ve started a new job, we bought a house and a new car, we traveled to different states... etc. There is no shortage of events that took place in our lives, but what struck on a deeper chord is that we were different people now. Even in such a short span, we had grown, matured, and weathered storms. We have scars from the past few years that have healed but will never fully go away. We’ve laughed, cried, hoped, prayed, rejoiced, mourned, said goodbye to old friendships, and welcomed in new ones. We’ve stood on the mountain and crouched in the valley. A lot can happen in a year and a half, and we are not the same as a result.
And yet, I think we fight change and maturity. We don’t want things to shuffle around because we like comfort and peace. To make matters even more complicated, growth often develops the most from the soil of suffering. Faith that is tested by fire is a stronger faith on the other side. If we fight the elements that seek to strengthen us, we battle back against the very process of growth.
I was always shocked by Jesus’ words in Luke 9. For context, there are prospective disciples who are looking to follow the Messiah, but He does not shy away from the commitment it takes.
“Yet another said, ‘I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” Jesus said to him, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” Luke 9:61-62
I always thought these verses were harsh because here is a man who simply wants to go home and say goodbye to his family and friends. He’s eager to follow Jesus but just wants to make his rounds before hitting the road. This doesn’t seem unreasonable to me, but Jesus says not to look back. Anyone who has committed to starting the work does not need to look back, for the work is ahead.
The point Jesus is trying to make is not that family and friends are unimportant or even that what is in our past is not important. He’s showing that what is in front right now is far greater than what is behind. Knowing and walking with Jesus is of the greatest importance, and the invitation is right there in front of us. If we keep giving Jesus conditions, “I’ll follow you, but let me go do this first”, or “I’m all in, but there are some things I need to figure out first”, we’ll miss out on the Kingdom of God. Even good things in hindsight can be a hindrance to Kingdom living.
Maybe it is a plow, maybe it an old memory or an outdated pair of glasses; all of us are tempted to hang on to some remnant of the past, some piece of the person we once were, some reason to not fully embrace the call. Yet the words of Jesus are clear; He is present right here, right now. Are we embracing the new seasons He is leading us into? Are we welcoming the refinement of our character as we become more like Him? Are we fully surrendered, ready to give everything in search of Him?
May we prepare our hearts today for what He has for us.