This is my fourth week of sabbatical and as with the first three weeks, I’ve certainly got some things to reflect on. Oddly enough, they’re largely swirling around the broad topic of memories. You have those, don’t you? Think of a fond memory right now. Think of someone you’ve known and perhaps is no longer with you. Think of a precious childhood memory that evokes a smile. Think of a place you’ve been and how that place made you feel. If you’re anything like me, for every few moments of memories I’ve retained I’m certain there are weeks and months worth of moments that are simply…gone. Unremembered likely because they were admittedly unremarkable. This is life as I know it. I recall the memorable and not so much the mundane.

I spent all of last week in Florida with my wife and youngest son as we visited my mother-in-law. It was a visit that we knew would not be a toes-in-the-sand type of Florida vacation but rather a time of helping her tidy up and declutter her home. Most of each day was spent sorting through things and lots of papers and items and photos in an effort to determine what should be kept and what should be let go. As the week went on, I began to grow in my commiseration and compassion for the whole situation. You see, in the past decade or so my mother-in-law has had to say goodbye to her own mother (old age), her oldest daughter (cancer), and her beloved husband (Alzheimers). So when we look at her home and see stuff that’s easily discarded, she sees a houseful of memory triggers that allow her to recall the ones she loves.

This morning I’m on Goldsboro, NC visiting my parents. I just spent the morning with them, roaming around the town I was born in and where I spent the first five years of my life. We drove past the two different houses we lived in between 1973 and 1979 when we moved to Cape May, NJ. One of the houses was just as I remember it and the other was in complete disrepair and hardly recognizable to me. It was at that house that I had a serious accident that nearly left me paralyzed. We drove past elementary schools I attended, past the park I used to play at, and past my grandparents old house (pictured here). Besides the missing enormous magnolia tree I used to climb, it was just as I remembered it.

A couple of months ago I began to commit to monthly personal prayer retreats. I take the morning hours on a Monday and find a place to walk/hike, get quiet, pray, and listen to God. The first retreat I took was along the James River, starting at a place called Texas Beach. As I meandered along the hiking/biking trail through the woods and along the river on one side and the city of Richmond on the other, I listened carefully to what God might be saying to me. Two words continued to be impressed on my heart: “Eyes forward.” I didn’t know (and still don’t) why I would’ve conjured that up on my own so I simply trusted that God was giving me a very clear and simple instruction: To keep my eyes (and my heart, my outlook, my perspective) facing forward.

I’ll make a confession to you. This likely won’t surprise you but as a pastor of students who’s been in ministry for 29 years, I have lots of life in the rearview mirror. I’ve interacted with countless middle and high school students over the years; some in the shallow end (they’re choosing) and some in the very, very deep end of ministry. While I’m grateful for all those years behind me, I can have a tendency to compare what is with what was. Like someone with a houseful of memories, I can become fixated on what was and bemoan the fact that what is doesn’t seem to compare. If I do this long enough (within seconds, really), it becomes a self-criticizing frenzy of, “you’re not doing it right”, and “you used to be good at this”, and “you should probably hang it up and do something else”, and “it’ll never been like it was.” Do memories ever turn on you like that? Do you ever think back and subconsciously think what’s behind you is better than what’s ahead of you? It’s an unfair assessment, really. Besides, you know the past but have no clue about the future. The past is full of periods but the future is nothing but question marks. The past is easily critiqued, graded and sorted but the future is filled with wonder, possibility, and boundless opportunities. What right do we have choosing one over the other or saying the known past is preferable over the unknown future?

I’d submit to you that to cling to the past is not only unhealthy but unbiblical. As I read the scriptures, it seems to me that the only reason we are to interact with the past at all is to remember the goodness of God for the purpose of fueling our faith in the future God has promised. We are NOT to live in the past at the expense of the goodness of God in the present. When we do, we short-circuit the work of God in the here and now in exchange for a dusty box of what used to be but no longer is. It’s not that memories are the enemy; not at all. Honoring what was is a great discipline. But then be sure to move in faith with your “eyes forward”, focused closely on what God is doing now, and what He might be doing next.

Here are some questions I’m asking that you can ask too:

1. Which memories have I given too much attention to? So much that I have neglected the possibilities of the present?
2. What are the here and now desires of my heart as it pertains to my love relationship with God and the plans He may have for me in the present?
3. Where have I placed my hope and confidence? Where can I see God’s hand moving in my life? Am I perhaps blinded to it because of some desire to focus on what was rather than what is and could be?
4. Am I willing to pray: God, I want to thank you for all that is behind me but please protect me from the thought that you only dwell there and not ahead of me. Open my eyes to see the beauty of your Presence in this moment right where I am. By Your Spirit, lead me wherever you desire for me to go. I know you’re doing a new thing in my life. I embrace that new thing now and ask that you’ll show me more of You as I keep my eyes forward. Amen.

If you’re willing, I’d love to hear your answers to any or all of these questions. You can email me privately at jvarner@southsidechurchva.org. I’d love to know your thoughts on how you interact with memories and any role they play in how you view the present and future. As always, thank you for reading.