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We were deep within the wild, winding around the sides of a mountain with tall trees above, boulders alongside the path and enclaves and drop offs at every turn. My hiking partner claimed to know his way around this particular spot, pointing at the blazes which clearly marked the various trails. He was supremely confident that he could walk us in and back out of the seemingly endless supply of nature.
It wasn’t long before we were lost. My fearless guide was momentarily confused when he discovered we were not headed the right direction, which didn’t make me feel all that great. After turning in circles and a few false starts, he let out a slight sigh of relief and pointed again at a blaze on a tree just ahead of us. Somehow, we’d missed one of the markers and accidentally began trekking down a different trail. We were halfway down by the time we realized it. The only way to get back to where we wanted to go was to backtrack until we were back to the point where the trails split. The bad news is that we had to retrace our steps, and we lost some time. The good news is that there were clear markers to follow, and we had little trouble course correcting safely.
What a powerful analogy for dealing with a painful past, a problematic present and an uncertain future.
In Jeremiah 31:21 it says “Set up signposts, make landmarks, set your heart toward the highway, the way in which you went.” God was telling his people to clearly mark the path they took as they were led into captivity, because the way to freedom would require them to return the very way they came. Breadcrumbs, like Hansel and Gretel. Blazes, like the ones marking trees on wooded mountain trails.
Our past can be littered with regrets, failures, mistakes, transgressions, betrayals. At some point, we stepped off the path, or wandered onto a completely separate path that leads far away from what God had for us. We wake up one day, open our eyes and we realize we’ve lost our way. And we wonder how in the world we will find our way back. It’s one step at a time. And it requires us to retrace our steps. And unfortunately, it requires us to use the things that create the most pain, shame and embarrassment as landmarks and guideposts. The only way out is through. To recover from a past we’d rather forget, we must first backtrack, passing by each major misstep to gain understanding, find closure and connect more dots to our story. Our freedom requires us to rediscover the journey that led us to captivity in the first place.
With every step, we move closer to the path we were supposed to take, the path that leads forward. It can feel like we’ve been condemned to wander this regretful road for the remainder of our existence, but it’s a temporary setback in the end. If we engage it, one day we will take the next step and feel a change in the ground beneath our feet. There will be a new blaze on the tree in front of us. A different color that signifies we are no longer retracing. A signal that we are stepping out of the past and into the future that God has waiting for us. And with the understanding of where we came from, we will be better equipped to stay on this path, appreciate it and make the absolute most out of it.
Wherever you are will absolutely lead to where you want to be. Just turn around, start backtracking and let God handle the rest.
I recently watched a television special on ESPN featuring the story of Southern Methodist University and its football team’s infamous journey from rising national powerhouse to being wiped off the map by the NCAA’s death penalty in 1985. For all the non-sports fans out there, SMU cheated in 100 different ways to build a winning football team, and after several rebukes by the NCAA, its program was effectively destroyed by the harshest punishment in NCAA history. The program is only now showing signs of life, more than 30 years later.
Many of the people who created the cheating culture and conducted the majority of illegal and unethical behavior were long gone by the time the NCAA brought down the hammer. The head coach who was there when the ship finally sank wasn’t the one who set course for the iceberg. He just couldn’t steer the ship clear in time. That fate had been set in motion and could not be avoided.
This is a great example of the long tail of sin. The echoes that mistakes can make in times to come. The consequence, sometimes delayed, of regrets, wounds and weakness.
It can seem unfair, when the echoes come. When you think you’ve seen the worst of it. So relieved to have it behind you, whatever “it” is, and to be starting over. But the consequences aren’t always immediate. Sometimes, your mistakes set into motion a series of other painful events that are yet to unfold in your life. The tendency, at least for me, is to then ask God what in the world He thinks He’s doing. Why is He continuing to punish you for the mistakes you made? Why is some of that punishment delayed? Why now? Why isn’t He restoring instead of destroying? Why is He hurting (you and others) instead of healing? Why is He not choosing to create a happy ending here? We expect that once we’ve repented, once we’ve made amends, once we’ve given it all up to God, it’s time for the miracle, the redemption. That is all true. But if the ship has been directed at an iceberg, God makes no promises that you won’t still hit it.
“Your affliction is incurable. Your wound is severe.”
That’s a quote from Jeremiah 30:12-18. This passage says that you’ll be bound up, have nothing to heal you, be forgotten by your lover, all because of the multitude of your iniquities and the increase of your sin. And then, it asks a hurtful question.
“Why do you cry about your affliction?” As if it should be assumed that this is happening.
At the end of the passage, after explaining that you are receiving grave consequences because of your sin, it says God will “restore health to you and heal you of your wounds.” Those incurable, self-inflicted, devastating wounds. God’s plan is perfect, even though it can be painful.
Another passage, Malachi 2:13-15, says, “You cover the alter of the Lord with tears, with weeping and crying; so He does not regard the offering anymore, nor receive it with goodwill from your hands.” As you read along, it continues, “Yet you say ‘For what reason?'” The passage answers the question, stating that the Lord has been witness to your transgression.
Alexander MacLaren is one of my favorite commentators on scripture. In his examination of these verses, he says:
“Every sin draws after it evil consequences which work themselves out” in your life. “The miseries which follow our sins are self-inflicted, and for the most part automatic.”
In other words, you will reap what you sow. I guess that cliché is true after all. He continues, “If we understand the connection between sin and suffering, and the fact that the sorrows which are but the echoes of preceding sins have all a distinctively moral and restorative purpose, we are prepared rightly to estimate how tenderly the God who warns us against our sins by what men call threatenings, loves us while He speaks.”
And just like the previous scripture in Jeremiah, there remains a promise for redemption.
“No sin can stay our reception of a multitude of good gifts,” said MacLaren.
Sorrows as echoes of preceding sins. That’s really hard to accept. Especially when you feel like you are no longer the person who set the ship on a collision course with the iceberg in the first place. When a changed heart, and a revived spirit is within you. When you’ve begun to transform your life. When you do the work. You likely expect it’s now time for restoration, hope, reward, joy. Not the beginning of an even more difficult journey.
Sometimes, that is true. And sometimes, the long tail of sin still has to work its way out of the picture. And the tip of that tail is most likely the most painful part of it.
I encourage anyone out there who is trying to change, to rebuild, to make things better, to understand that the echoes won’t last forever. At some point, you’ve hit the iceberg, put the pieces back together, and you start winning again. It may feel like forever. But the consequences will work themselves out in your life. In the midst of the echoes is not the time to give up on your God. Even if you are losing what you dearly love. It’s exactly the time when He’s getting ready to do His most miraculous work. It’s not a convenient process. But you can’t argue with the conclusion. It’s hard. It hurts. I don’t know why things are unfolding as they are for you. I can’t even begin to answer that question for myself at the moment. But I want to see how the story ends. God tells great stories.
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