Call it reflecting, remembering or ruminating, we
all look back. Thinking back on our life and experience can either be a sweet
stroll down memory lane or a terrorizing rollercoaster ride that makes us
breakout in a cold sweat, the hair on the back of our neck standing-up.
We had just moved to Florida and were trying to get settled in our
house. Boxes were everywhere, the walls were bare and the curtains were down in
eager anticipation of repainting most of the house. We had finished the living
room a couple of days earlier and were about to tackle the kitchen. Mary Ann
and I ran to the grocery store to get some ground beef for hamburgers when we
were stopped by a dear elderly woman. Since she talked like she knew us well,
Mary Ann sweetly engaged her in conversation.
But not me, it bugged me that I could not think of her name and
where we had met. Without use of keyboard, laptop, smartphone or wireless
Internet connection I “Googled” her face in my brain, trying to come up with a
match. Did she work at the law office where we signed the papers to buy the
house? Had we met while visiting churches? Did she work at the company I came
here to lead? Did she live down the street? My internal face recognition
software was coming up empty. Where was access to NCIS, CSI, CIA, FBI, Interpol
or other local, state, federal and global databases when I needed them?
After about 10-minutes of conversation, this petite, sweet, dear
older woman commented that she really liked the color we had selected for the
living room. How did she know that? Did she secretly work at Home-Depot where
we bought the paint? Was my near-term memory fading that fast? I couldn’t stand
it any longer. With all the gentleness and grace I could muster I asked,
“Excuse me, I don’t mean to be rude, but I just can’t remember you visiting our
house. When did we meet?” She smiled that innocent little-old-lady smile and
sweetly said, “Why no, we’ve never met before.” How in the world then did she
know so much about us? Again, trying not to get upset I asked the all-important
follow-up question. “Well, if we’ve never met before, how do you know what
color we painted our living room?” Her answer is still burned into my memory
though it took place nearly 15 years ago – “Why, it’s my hobby to drive around
and look into people’s houses. I can’t wait to see what colors you have picked
out for your kitchen and bedrooms.”
As we said our goodbye’s and walked away, Mary Ann tugged at my
arm, leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Before we eat or do anything else,
the curtains are going up.” As I said, looking back can be an interesting
journey.
Looking back…
Starting in first grade, I took public transportation to school.
One day I was goofing off (no surprise there) after school, so I missed my bus.
This was a great tragedy because waiting for the next bus would put me on the
edge of missing that great theatrical and literary experience known as the
“Rocky and Bullwinkle” TV show. I was deep into the latest epic sage and needed
to see the next episode. Waiting for the next scheduled bus, my palms sweated
wondering if Rocky would save the day. Looking intently over Parkville’s retail
epicenter landscape, I strained to see the next bus. Finally, after what seemed
an eternity, the figure of a bus peered over the horizon. With breathless
excitement I got my bus token ready so I could hop onto the bus, deposit the
token and flop into a seat in record time. Belching billows of diesel
fumes, the great pale green hulking monster of a bus moved more slowly than
ever. I anxiously jumped up and down in an uncontrollable mix of excitement and
fear of being late.
Historical and cultural context: In some households; cleanliness is next to godliness. In my
family; you were late if you were only on time. We were never “fashionably
late” but always annoyingly early. This was drilled into me from my earliest
memories. I remember going to my cousin Bobby’s wedding and the extreme
consternation of not being able to get into the church early. We thought the
flimsy excuse offered did not match our “inalienable right” to be early for
every event. After all, just because they were wheeling the casket out of the
church from a funeral didn’t seem like such a big reason for stopping us.
But I digress… back to the drama… as the bus crossed over from
Parkville into Carney, my anxiety rose to even greater heights. I was so
flustered that I forgot to “ring the bell” for my stop. Oh no, I was now going
to have to wait till the next stop, making me even later. I frantically pulled
the chord to ring the bell. I made my way up to the front door of the bus, crouching
down into my sprinting position, getting ready for the race of my life. Like an
Olympian waiting for the gold medal race to crown the world’s fastest human,
every fast-twitch muscle was ready to explode. A hush came over the bus as it
lumbered to a stop, expelling pent up air pressure and a blue-gray diesel cloud
that had the undeniable whiff of petroleum. The bus driver reached to his left
and pulled the lever, opening the doors that would release me to run home as
fast as my two skinny legs would carry me. The doors were only a blur to me as
I bolted out of the bus and made an immediate left turn in front of the bus to
cross Harford Road.
The next few seconds are fuzzy followed by excruciating pain as I
was hit by a car. For all you historians (or those with absolutely nothing
better to do) "CLICK HERE" to
see this significant, legendary site. The injuries sustained were not life
threatening, but the retina of my right eye ruptured producing a really cool
looking red spot in the middle of my pupil. This gave great rise to my
popularity in school, as I would make girls scream as they looked into my
“bloody eyeball” – how cool is that! Needless to say, since that day I
carefully look both ways before crossing any street, road, parking lot.
Looking Back…
We often look back at our lives; decisions, words, actions and
attitudes with considerably less laughter. I listen intently as people open
their hearts, hanging their head as they describe the terrible things they did,
or things done to them. I see the terrible weight of guilt, embarrassment
and shame scream through their hushed tones. And when I listen to someone brag
about how they are afraid of nothing, everything in their life is great, full
of success – I normally see a frightened child in an adult body, hiding from
themselves and their own fears.
I have a friend that is crippled, but doesn’t use crutches or a
wheelchair. He has a lame life, unable to move beyond his past. Stuck in the
sewer of his thoughts, he continually slips back into old patterns, old habits
and old choices.
Yes, God does want us to learn from our decisions and mistakes,
but he does not want us to live under a condemned conscious. Step one of his
plan starts with forgiveness and restoration through Jesus Christ. We bring him
our brokenness and guilt; in exchange he offers forgiveness, restoration and
peace[1]. Step two is
becoming the person he wants us to be, looking forward and reaching towards his
goal for us and our lives[2]. God has an
“end game” in mind for us and it is not achieved by wallowing in shame or guilt.
Not that I have my life all together, but let me encourage you to
take your past to Jesus. He came for people just like you and me, wounded and
weary of pretending to have it all together. I am really comforted by Jesus
when he says “For I came not to call and invite those who are upright
and in right standing with God, but the erring ones and all those not free from
sin[3].”
It’s time to transform from “Looking Back” into “Looking to
Jesus.” And that’s really good news.
Chet Gladkowski writes on
contemporary topics that impact our lives, culture and faith.
GladAssociates@gmail.com -
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[1] Martin Luther called this The Great Exchange – “by a wonderful exchange our sins are no longer ours
but Christ’s, and the righteousness of Christ not Christ’s but ours. He has
emptied himself of his righteousness that he might clothe us with it and fill
us with it; and he has taken our evils upon himself that he might deliver us
from them.”
[2] Philippians 3:13-14 I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it.
But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is
ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God
has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.
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