Back to the Future

As I flip through the pages of my Bible, I see the footprints: verses marked in all styles of highlighter, pencil, and pen. I see notes in the margins. I see years of use… and I see the broken binding. Maybe I could have gotten a few more months out of it, but I want to be able to go back to visit my old friend when I want to. Change has never been something that I enjoy: I’m a packrat, and I like to cling to how things are today. After all, how could it possibly get any better? I don’t know what’s on the other side of that line; I feel safer here. Thankfully God (and other people) nudge me to cross and to find more beauty, more people, more life on the other side. You would think I’d learn that crossing lines can be a good thing, but every time I tend to resist. I crossed this line easier than most – I got a brand new waterproof Bible last week. I got a new translation: ESV. I open it up, and it doesn’t look lived in, it’s like  a stark hospital room in comparison to the cozy little house on the hill. I may have crossed the line more readily, but that doesn’t mean I’m not looking back.

I’ve been looking back a lot lately, and that’s not always a bad thing. Memories abound: it is good to walk among them. But there comes a time when I have to come back to now, to say goodbye to what happened then. To leave the past in the past while still acknowledging the person it has made me scars and all.  It’s probably time to do that now. I don’t really want to let go. I know that someday this book, these words of God will bear marks of the journey. My journey. To think of all of the marks those words have borne through time; of all the journeys of the saints intertwining at this one point… Those words can never resemble an overly clean disinfected room when I keep in mind all of the footprints they hold. Maybe I’m extending the journey, maybe starting a new chapter. I will look at the memories again, and by then they will have increased immensely. So maybe it’s time to put the past back in my closet along with the skeletons. To “thank my God every time I remember” them and leave it at that. It’s a painful process. Now the only parts of my  life  I have to think on is now and the future…the change. But hey,maybe that’s a good thing. What do I know?

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