Looking Forward

When my passport came in the mail the other day, I eagerly ripped the envelope open. I turned it upside down to empty all of the contents onto the kitchen table, and noticed a conspicuous absence in the little pile. There was only one passport.

I had been under the impression that they would return my original one, since I was getting a new one only because my name needed to be changed from my maiden name. I don’t know how I got that impression, but I had been counting on it. The original passport had sentimental value in the stamps it contained. I had v isited Spain and Morocco on that passport, and memories of those adventures came flooding back when I saw the stamps. (The Moroccan stamp was in Arabic, too, which I adored.) It also had a stamp from United States customs; for some reason, that always made me smile, too. That passport went with me on our honeymoon… The memories go on and on.

But now…those stamps are gone. In their place, I have a brand new passport with zero stamps. Nothing but empty pages fill up the little booklet. A new picture and a new name adorn the first page. It is a new book with no stories to tell.

I can’t lie. I’ve been resisting the urge to cry my eyes out over the lost stamps. I am, by nature, a very sentimental person, known to keep things from past experiences for no reason other than to know that they’re still around. Those stamps gave me some comfort, somehow, reminding me of challenges I overcame and adventures I survived. I have many, many pictures, and many, many other trinkets from my travels, but those stamps….they were special somehow.

And now they’re gone forever. I couldn’t get them back if I tried.

The other night, as I allowed myself to think about the loss for more than a second or two (which I had been avoiding, for fear of sadness and remorse), something occurred to me. My passport has been wiped clean. My slate, so to speak, has been cleared, and there is no record of anything that I did in the past. There is no record to remind me of the past. The only thing left to do is move forward.

And the double meaning? I think it’s clear.

Just as my passport has been replaced with a brand new one, free from memories and stamps and wrinkles from being crammed in carry-on bags, my record in life is clear. Jesus Christ, by His infinite grace and mercy, has cleared my record. Anything and everything from my past has been cleared. There is nothing tarnishing the image of my life. There is nothing to remind me of who I was or what I did. All I have is a clean slate, a fresh start, and endless possibility.

It isn’t even as though I received that gift only once, either. It is as though the United States State Department is hand delivering a brand new passport every single morning with the message, “Here is your day. Where will you go with it?”

My God has promised me mercies that are renewed every single morning and grace that is sufficient for every single moment. There is no reason to look back, and every opportunity to look forward. Where I have been and what I have done is irrelevant. What I will do remains to be seen.