Hey, weary traveler.
I’m concerned you’re consumed with hurt and pain and fear and disappointment from your past.
So consumed that you risk missing the new thing God is doing right before you.
But it’s time.
It’s time to forget the former things.
The bad decision.
The broken relationship.
The sorrow from watching someone you love hurt.
Then, release it to God.
But do not dwell.
See, He’s doing a new thing.
He’s making a way in your desert.
He’s creating streams in your wasteland.
The Lord is giving drink to you.
—-And all this, so you may proclaim His praise.
Yet, you will miss this new thing, this platform for God’s glory, if you remain in the thick of your past.
It’s time. It’s time.
Weary traveler, it’s time to stop looking back.
Fix that gaze straight ahead.
Laser-like on the Redeemer of both you and your circumstances.
This is the Holy One of Israel.
The Author and Perfecter of your faith.
The Maker of plans to prosper you, to give you hope, and a future.
The Good Shepherd.
The God who finishes the good work He started in you.
The One who made a way through the sea; who created a path amidst the mighty waters.
The One whose namesake is on you.
The same One who redeemed your life can redeem the thick of your past in a new way.
The Lord, the Lord is doing this new thing.
Weary traveler, don’t you miss it.
This is what the LORD says— he who made a way through the sea, a path through the mighty waters, who drew out the chariots and horses, the army and reinforcements together, and they lay there, never to rise again, extinguished, snuffed out like a wick:
“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.
The wild animals honor me, the jackals and the owls, because I provide water in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland, to give drink to my people, my chosen, the people I formed for myself that they may proclaim my praise.”
Isaiah 43:16-21 (NIV).
Speaking of new thing, I believe I last told you about our current and very desperate living situation.
Yes, you’re right—the one where our remaining bathroom (the same one my six-month pregnant self can hardly turn around in) is our kitchen, only bathroom, and main living quarters.
Believe me when I say, you’ve not really lived until you’ve–
- prepared and cooked fajitas on your washing machine;
- cleaned your blender in the world’s smallest bathroom pedestal sink, with a big belly and a 30-lb. toddler clinging to your even bigger rumpus;
- washed 20+ dishes, pots, and pans while you shower; and
- felt the very unique crunch of mortar and gutted tile between your toes because the foregoing is caked in your carpet.
Now, who wants to come over for dinner?
But at least you understand why Andy and I spend most of our days at his house:
Much love to you,