Driving to pick my kids up from school today I glanced into the rearview mirror, as you do, and I was stunned at what I saw. The landscape behind me was beautiful, something worthy of being painted. My brain did a little double take and immediately I thought, “I don’t remember it looking that beautiful as I was driving by.” And then I had a God moment. Instantly I thought of the last year of my life, a difficult one by all accounts. That year wasn’t very beautiful as I fought my way through it. You see, one year ago, I was praying fervently that God would find a way for me to stay right where I was. Our family was facing a pretty big move, the type that completely disrupts your life. We had considered it from every angle and we just couldn’t see how it was what was best for us or how it would ever work.
So I prayed. I prayed daily and begged God to find another way. I liked where I was, I liked what I was doing, I liked the support network and friends we had and my children were doing very well, I didn’t want to disrupt things. Nothing about it made sense, nothing about it seemed like the “right choice” by earthly standards.
And yet, every time I prayed, the answer was always the same – we needed to move. I asked for signs, I asked others to pray, I petitioned God daily convinced that I could change His mind. He sent me a song…God Help Me, by Plumb. I felt like she was singing my heart. I was convicted that my prayers lacked one very important element, a request that He also help me to move – should that be His will. So I changed my prayers asking Him to help me to go if that was what He really wanted while making it very very clear that it was not what I wanted. I cried, I begged, I prayed, and eventually, we moved.
Fear gripped me because I knew the impossibility of what we were doing, things began to crumble around us, just as I had feared they would. There was nothing we could do to help ourselves out of the mess I knew we would encounter. So I had no choice but to set aside my fear and laid all of it at the feet of the King of Kings. I simply refused to worry, each time it tried to creep in I stopped and prayed. I would say, “God, this is an issue. You brought us here, we knew this was going to be a major issue and we have no way to overcome this, you are going to have to take care of it.” And then I walked away. I don’t know how, but I found a way to honestly leave it right there on the floor of the throne room and walk away.
We have been in our new home for nearly 6 months and God has worked some serious miracles to make it all work out. My children adjusted much faster than I could ever have hoped and I have found myself overwhelmingly grateful to be here. I have been overwhelmed by His provision of things that one might think God was too busy to be concerned about. Truly trivial things like a refrigerator. And yet, He provided in ways that were nothing short of miraculous. And that refrigerator serves as a daily reminder to me that He sees us, He knows our needs and He will meet every single one. I find myself giving thanks not only for His provision but for the move itself, the very thing I had begged Him not to make us do.
You see, looking in the rearview mirror, I can see that it was a beautiful journey. But it certainly didn’t look beautiful as I drove through it. Today, when I glanced into my rearview mirror and saw the amazing scene behind me, I was instantly reminded of my own journey and how sometimes, you miss the beauty around you until you look back.
I drove that same street on the way home later and it still didn’t look as beautiful as it had in the mirror and I was reminded that at some point, I will once again be pushed by God to do something I don’t want to do – and once again I will struggle and wrestle and I may not see the beauty in it. But now, I have a very tangible reminder that the beauty is there, even if I can’t see it.
He also reminded me that looking back too long can cause you to crash. It is best to glance back, see the beauty, take away the lessons you were to learn and keep moving forward reminding yourself that the path behind you is indeed beautiful and full of purpose, even when you can’t see it.