I’m really glad God hasn’t told me not to look back–yet, because if that were the case I would be a pillar of salt right now, just like Lot’s wife.
Today, Jack told me he wanted to go back to Dallas–back to his house and his friends. We cried together as we connected emotionally–both of us grieving the loss of the life we left behind.
In this crazy time of transition where my earthly possessions could fit easily into one room with a walk-in closet, I keep looking back at my life in Dallas and longing for my view, my friends and my own space. It’s not good, I know. But I’m a woman and I’m having trouble with this whole leaving my life behind thing.
In my attempts to shake off the melacholiness that has taken over my mind I started to think about how Jesus handled transition. I wasn’t sure this was going to make me “feel” better, but I gave it a try and found that Luke 14 shows us clearly Christ asking those around him to leave it all behind and follow him. Jesus always seems to be focused on the future–not the past. Though this got me thinking. He was also human and humans like what is familiar. I tend to believe, and this is in no way biblical, that in the middle of such a draining ministry, Jesus had to at least once think of how nice it would be to be back at his mother’s house where he could have a nice meal, work on a cabinet or something and just put his feet up at the end of the day in solitude.
So as I come to the close of yet another draining day of trying to manage three small kids in the midst of the greatest transition of our lives, I am tempted to look back on days that were not perfect themselves, but that are comfortable and have familiar places and familiar faces (like the rhyme?) all around. And I truly miss them and the people that were a part of them and while I don’t want to go back– I am looking back today, and probably will continue to look back sometimes, with great fondness and appreciation for one of the stops along the journey.