Retracing Our Steps

I lose my phone a lot; it’s happened twice today already. As annoying as it is in the moment, I don’t actually mind because I like feeling freedom from the grasp of apps and instant gratification and response. However, I’ll also say I’m glad I don’t have a running tally of the hours I’ve spent walking up and down the stairs, searching beneath blankets and couch cushions, and dumping the contents of my purse onto the bed to track down my phone. Here’s the kicker: often, it’s just sitting on the charger or nestled in my back pocket, predictable places.

When we misplace an object, that’s the first thing we do - we retrace our steps - but I think we do this when we’ve lost sight of something in our lives, too. We follow the winding path, going back the way we came through thickets and meadows, back to the beginning, revisiting bright spots and hard decisions and big let downs, hoping that along the way, there will be revelation. Lately, I’ve been retracing my steps on this path, not in a melancholy way, but in a “how did I actually get here?” way. 

I’m discovering I find things right where I left them but understand them differently now - an older, wiser version of myself with more knowledge of what the future holds - and, I’m also finding I more deeply understand the why behind the hardship and joy and delay and change. As I revisit old milestones and memories, I’m beginning to wonder if what felt like being lost was something more like exploring, but my scope was so limited I couldn’t quite grasp the potential and adventure in the moment.

“The Lost Year”, as some people call this pandemic season, has actually been a year of finding for me. Yes, it has been a year of loss in the here and now - saying goodbye to loved ones, grieving all the hugs we missed out on, surviving in financial hardship - but for me, it has also been a year of finding purpose, tuning into God’s plan, and living with a wild yes in my heart (even when things don’t make sense). It’s how this former Tennessee teacher ended up working in talent acquisition for a non-profit and moving to Southern Maryland. And now, it’s the reason I am planning a move to Upstate New York - back to the place I grew up.

I’m wondering if I am retracing my steps too literally as I return to the town of my childhood, but then again, I don’t think I am.

I’m wondering if a new path can branch off from this place of contemplation, if God will help me begin anew in this place that feels like home, starting the next leg of my journey with all of the knowledge and wisdom I gained while living my first 33 years and tracing them back to this place.

I’m wondering if this is where the wisdom for a new season comes alive, birthed from walking with God up and down paths both old and new, recognizing that even loss is gain in Kingdom currency. Recognizing that we still have things to learn from the lessons we once learned.

You know, there’s a lot to wonder about in this life, but there’s also a lot of wonder to be found in the presence of God.

As I think of it now, maybe Upstate New York is a predictable place, an unexpectedly beautiful place, but it isn’t the place I looked first, or second, or even third. It took me a long time to go this far back, stopping at altars I built in my mind to remember God’s protection and provision, and building new ones to recognize the faithfulness I didn’t see in the moment but see clearly now. Reading my story in reverse has helped me begin to understand that He had a plan to meet my needs before I even knew I had them. And remembering His faithfulness gives me the courage to jump into this next season which feels familiar and new all at once.

I’m convinced retracing our steps is not just about finding something we lost, but about discovering something new from familiar places. I’m also convinced it’s a path worth taking, so New York, here I come.