Past your Past

Looking back on the memories of...wait a minute! I'm not writing out the lyrics of a Garth Brooks song here. What's a different way that I can start this? Once upon a time? No, thats been done. In the beginning--nah it doesn't go back that far. Well, seems like all the good starting lines are taken. So I guess I'll just jump right on in head first.  

I guess it starts about 9 years ago when I was in a different church. I found a passion for writing and looking at things from a deeper spiritual level. Because of that, I started working on writing my life's story. I wrote and wrote all while reliving moments from my past that I truly never wanted to remember again. But, I felt as if I had to share these things because they had all been a part of shaping my life. From the time of my birth until then, each moment had been shaped and defined by each of these moments that I shared. The "scraps," as I called them, had been pieced together to form something beautiful as an ordained minister in the non-denominational church. I truly thought I had made it. 

What a joke! I wrote the story sure, but by the time it was put out for publication I hardly appeared the same as the one that had written it. The one that wrote about how the scraps and everything bad that had ever happened in my life had worked together to form my life into a useful vessel for God was very different from the chain smoking, mixed drink guzzling, cuss like a sailor, suicidal person I had become.  I thought that by writing my story that there would be fame and fortune, news stories about the author from Athens who had made the New York Times best sellers list. Hey, a girl could dream.

Life went on and the depression took hold. I was miserable all the time. The only thing I wanted to do was sleep. I let myself go physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually.  I would pull myself together long enough to do the things that I had to do, work and fire department obligations, but nothing else. 

When I was at the last church that I called "my home," I had this tendency of roller-coastering all of the time. The pastor I had at the time in my college group told me repeatedly to stop going around the mountain, that it was time to stop wandering in the wilderness and make it into the promised land. As I was writing that, I kept trying to write "wondering" instead of wandering. That is what I have done. I spent these years wondering what could have been. 

I had these plans of enrolling in the discipleship program, either at the church or through God Chasers with Tommy Tenney. I had written a letter to try to drum up support because after all, students in these programs can't work with the rigid schedules that is set for them plus all of the travel expenses that would have to be covered as you went to minister all over the country.  Who was I kidding though? I couldn't sell water to a dehydrated person lost in a desert so how did I ever expect anyone to support my dreams.

After that, I was going to be in New Mexico on the reservation working with my kids out there.  JJ, Shandeen, Donna and Deanna still weigh heavily on my heart and mind to this day. JJ and Shandeen had such a tough life because of the choices of their mom, Donna. Deanna was such a happy girl. She so wanted to come home with me and be my daughter. Those tears still sting as I remember the last trip and her holding on with everything she had begging me to stay. She let go with a promise that I would come back the next year. That was 21 years ago this July.  I wonder who she is today. Did she remember the stories I taught them by dressing in all my crazy costumes to teach them? Did anyone go back to teach them more about Jesus or did the reality of life on the reservation become their destiny?

I had been dating this guy who was a pretty good fella. He was very active in his church and served the ministry team. He was a writer, was a romantic at heart, and treated me like a lady. I really liked him.  He was younger than me but, because of an injury he had sustained, appeared much older than he was. As people do, they began to murmur and talk about our relationship and how he wasn't the right fit for me. I allowed the opinion of others to determine the outcome and I called it off. I wonder what could have been if I hadn't listened to those voices. 

When I started attending the church I go to now, I walked in as a defeated human being. I won't call myself a lady at that point because I was a far from that as I could be.  It had been probably 20 years since I had called it quits with the romantic guy and was 13 years into marriage. I was female yes, but the years of abuse I had put my body through coupled with ideologies I had been raised with left me feeling unworthy of being called a lady.  It has taken me some time to "feel" like a woman and to be honest, there are days I still struggle. Wondering if there will ever be someone that sees me as a lady again.

Here I am, just short of 50 years old and I feel like I'm wandering again. For the past 7-8 years, my life revolved around caring for Matt. Was his medications filled? Did he have everything he needed for dialysis? Where was his walker, his wheelchair or his prosthetic? Do I have enough medical supplies for this emergency or to clean that wound? What am I going to get that I think he might eat to keep his strength up? Since he's gone, now what? 

As the Holy Ghost moved through the services this weekend, I sat with what felt like a rock in my chest. There was a physical ache within my chest that I still haven't put a finger on. I was trying to explain it to a co-worker earlier and I wasn't able to find words. I still can't. As the evangelist spoke Saturday evening about the 400 years of silence, which fit so well with what Bro. Nathan had just preached last Sunday when I also felt the rock, I feel that silence.  Then as the chords of the past were cut on Sunday, I know things fell away. All I could think about as I drove into town to have dinner was about a specific song, Past Your Past. I've known the words to this song for years, decades actually. But I never really heard the words and let them speak to what God needed and was trying to do inside of me. 

Right after high school graduation, I went to a music school in Nashville where I was blessed to have Debra Talley as one of my teachers. Her husband, Roger, taught piano and Lauren, their daughter, was a student in class with me. This was after they had officially retired from touring as a group. Somewhere during that time, I found the cd called "A Night to Remember," a live recording from Christ Church.  On the CD, Kirk debuted a song he had written based on a true story which had taken place over several months. I will try to relay some of that story along with the song as I try to close this out. 

There was this young girl who attended one of their concerts one night. They sang the song "Lonely People," which had opened his eyes to the amount of lonely people in the world. After hearing the song, this young girl began to write to Kirk and began to confide in him. She felt comfortable because he had never met her face to face. She continued to write for several months, going on and on about things that had been done to her and on and on. She ended up calling him on the phone one day from a pay phone where they talked until she ran out of quarters then she called him back collect. They continued to talk for an hour and a half, Kirk hopeful that he would be able to get through to her.  At the end of that hour and a half, he was no closer to getting through to her than when they began. As he sat on the bus that evening driving to a singing, he thought maybe if he wrote her story in a song it would get through to her, so he wrote this song:

"Where do I start, she started, I remember well. A life of disappointment she just had to tell. Her words were cold and bitter, she grew angry fast. I could tell she needed Jesus to get her past her past. How can I get beyond it, I listened as she cried. She said I've moved away to start again, and I've failed at all I've tried. You see I blame this man I knew for the way I have to live. How can I get beyond it all? I said you must forgive.

Then you can get past your past. You can walk away from painful memories. Past your past, no you don't have to be alone. You can stand upon the word of God, your yesterdays can be gone. Let Jesus bring you past your past then you can go on. 

 (It was during this interlude of the song where Kirk realized there were more people just like this girl in their shows each night, holding on to the past of their lives, unable to move on. So he wrote...)

 

So if you are held captive by deeds of yesterday. Regardless of how far you've run, you don't think you can get away. Run on a little farther the the Father's mercy throne. There you will find a brand new start. Your heart will be His home. 

You can get past your past. You can walk away from painful memories. Past your past, you don't have to be alone. You can stand upon the word of God. Your yesterdays can be gone. Let Jesus bring you past your past then you can go on.

Go on, Go on let Jesus bring you past your past. Then you can go on."

The sins and things that I did or were a part of in my past no longer held me or had power over me. The wandering wondering has though. The thoughts there of what could have or might have been. That's my past that I have to let go of to be able to fully walk in the present and future which Christ has for me.