I once asked Alex why it was that all the (at that time) recent events of my life seemed to consume me so. Why was it that all I could see was the pain and devastation? Why couldn’t I see the hope of a future? Why couldn’t I look past all this junk and see, even glimpse, what lies ahead — or even what God has done in the past?

Alex asked me to, without looking behind me, describe as best I could what was there. We were standing on a street in Chinatown, waiting for a table to clear in one of our favorite restaurants there. The crowd inside was thick. The room to wait in was small. So we waited on the street. I knew there were cars parked along the street and I was pretty sure there were parking meters, a street with traffic…. I knew there was more but I couldn’t give details. Then he asked me to describe what was around me, in front of me. That I could do in great detail.

Then he said what had just recently happened fills my vision because it is nearest me, like Lucas and Erica and Niza were at that moment. What God had done in my life before was harder to see because current events clouded my view. And the future, well, he said that was behind me. I cannot see it because I haven’t passed it yet. "We all walk backwards into the future," he said. That’s why we see the present so well, remember the past so well, but don’t have but an idea of what the future holds. It’s because the future is behind us.

I look at my past, my days gone by in Los Angeles, and its so easy to romanticize it; to remember it better than it was. It wasn’t all sunshine and roses. There were fights with friends, and sometimes month-long silences. There was the ever-present constant struggle to give myself away. That struggle hasn’t changed since I’ve been gone. There were fruitless job searches, unfulfilling jobs, the never-ending search for a career.

I do miss my home. But I also know I can’t go back. Not yet. Not now. I don’t know if ever. God has something new he’s doing. Something new for me to be involved in. Something only I can do the way he wants it done. Something my specific gifts and strengths and skills are perfect for; mine and no one else’s. This is where I belong now.

People often ask if I miss LA, and I have to say of course I do. But how do I communicate to them that as much as LA captured my heart, Nashville is doing the same? Both are so different, no comparison can be made. I would miss Nashville if I left, and I miss LA as long as I’m here.

All I know to do is to keep pressing forward, walking backward into the future. I can’t see what’s next for me, though I have a few ideas — and a lot of dreams of my own. I can only see what’s in my life right now and what I have left behind. Its like forever sitting in the back of a pickup watching the world that just went by. Frustrating, but exhilarating nonetheless. I’m on the road, the wind in my hair and the… actually, the wind whipping my hair into my eyes… well, perhaps this isn’t the greatest analogy… you get the idea. I’m moving into the future. That’s what matters most, right?

Not that I have already
obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to
take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers,
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. — Phil 3:12-14