“I hate moving backwards” I thought to myself, sitting on the train from Paris. I was, literally, sitting backwards on the train. I could feel my body fighting the push of momentum and it began to give me a headache. The train was full, the afternoon sun beginning to dip toward the west. The windows were dirty and a bit cloudy, the rapidly passing landscape softly muted out of focus. I clutched my purse on my lap, set my gaze on the horizon, and began to let my mind wander, as it is so prone to do. I tried to capture what this “moment” must feel like, this experience, this out-of-body life that I seem to be living.
Somedays, I wake up and can’t believe that I lived halfway around the world. Other days, it feels like I’d always been there. And soon after, comes the realization that I’m going to do it all over again in a few short days. These experiences, these dramatic seasons of life that I seem to have, they almost feel like they belong to someone else. I mean, I’m thankful and I love my life but sometimes, my experiences feel like nothing but endless waves of progression towards some unknown state. I can safely say that I am never in the same place, literally and figuratively, always in some sort of flux. But I think that’s normal, especially considering my age and stage of life. But I must admit, there are some days that I feel that I’m “sitting backwards” on the train of life that keeps relentlessly moving forward.
This thing that we call “the human experience”, it’s so fragile, so prone to change. It’s amazing the difference that a year can make. Here I sit, just about 365 days since moving abroad to France, preparing to do it all over again in a different country. One year, two visas, two intercontinental moves, two new addresses, new friends, many flights, and unconditional mercies. I am uncharacteristically blessed and I see God’s hand in all that I do and everything that I accomplish. But there’s a part of me that, selfishly, always looks back over my shoulder. I’m not saying that it’s wrong to think about the past, remember the joyful bits, and learn from mistakes. But to dwell in the “good times”, the bittersweet nostalgia of it all? To see God’s grace in my past and question the stability of my future? I don’t think that’s really fair, to be honest.
So I challenge myself, all of us, to look forward without fear. Let’s face the days ahead with strength and dignity because of Christ and his never-wavering promise to give blessings to those who are Christians. And as a believer, that gives me peace and freedom to experience the ebbs and flows of life with joy and security. And even though I may sometimes feel “backward” or things might not go my way, it’s a comfort to know that my days are perfectly ordained and that God calls me his child.
les (més)aventures 