All Things New by Andrea Marino

There is an open door before us—a passageway into the new. What is behind and what lies ahead are the chapters of our lives. New things are exciting, but can also generate apprehension. No one can say for sure what the future holds. The Lord says not to let our hearts be troubled (John 14:1). At this time, however, I am writing with a troubled heart. My oldest daughter, her husband, and two of my grandchildren are preparing to move south. A mere thought of them thirteen hours away is overwhelming. My mind cannot process what life will be like with them no longer in ‘reach’. How do we navigate change? Change is inevitable and signifies an end to something. Endings usually generate sadness in me. The older I get, the more I resist change. Even if my past wasn’t perfect, there is comfort in the familiar, in the predictability of what I know.

Facing this new door, I find myself triggered by things from the past. A song, a picture, a crayon or a DIY masterpiece from a loved one tugs at my heart, bringing on the tears. I enjoy the memories, at the same time feel an ache for what once was. “How short the days are long; How fast the days of slow go away.” These words from the song ‘Summer’ by Christine Dente center on a mother and her young daughter sharing a basically uneventful afternoon in the summer. I wish those kinds of days when time seems to stand still for you to simply enjoy the smallest marvels through a child’s eyes, would never end. Bittersweet are the years gone by. Where there is an open door, the past must adjust. No going back for any of us. New and old, good and bad, our experiences weave a story, unique as whom God has created us to be (Psalm 139), and all for the purpose of taking part in His bigger story. How can I not be thankful for having been given such an opportunity? God’s faithfulness to me through the years is unmistakable. All that He is, all He has done, are things to hold on to forever.

When my 11-year-old granddaughter expressed deep sadness over leaving the only home she has ever known, I cried along with her. I know what it’s like to move from a place drenched in memories of good times with family and good friends. I told my granddaughter, what we think is gone may not actually be gone. Our past remains part of us, adding depth to our lives, yet to unfold. With trust in the Lord, these chapter experiences will give strength to our character, gracing us with wisdom from above. When we are children, we reason in childish ways, often having been injured by what others do in conjunction with lies we unknowingly received. Thankfully, God has not left us in the dark. He has made a way for us to know the truth and incorporate truth into our hearts to own it. “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and light unto my path.” (Psalm 119:105 KJV) I cannot say how. Still, I believe God is preserving our cherished memories so we can savor them throughout eternity. He holds every tear we shed in a bottle. (Psalm 56:8)

Going through a time of mourning childhood, I remember appealing to my second daughter (age three) to please stop growing. “But mommy, I have to,” was her earnest response. With a sigh, I reassured her she did have to grow. One day, years later, still troubled about the loss of innocence in a world eager to steal child-like wonder and joy, the Lord simply and clearly said to me, “You are my child forever.” It was one of those standstill moments where I feasted upon the truth. One day, I will live forever free of the cares of this world. Now that is childhood perfected by a loving Father. “And He who sits on the throne said, Behold, I am making all things new,” Revelation 21:5 (KJV). I wish I could tell you my heart is no longer troubled over my latest situation. But that is something I will work on, which will require learning through the experience. What I can say with certainty is that with each and every open door before us, God is leading us to His place; a place called home. In my Father’s house, there are no more tears, no more sadness, no more goodbyes, and no more enemy. For the time being, I will rejoice in the hope I have through faith in Jesus, who gives me peace with God. (Romans 5:1,2)

Andrea Marino

With a yearning to uncover the secret to life, Andrea embarked on a journey to discover truth. The study of Psychology proved inadequate, while the forces of darkness began to make their presence known. The Hobble, from Ai to Bethel encompasses Andrea’s personal victory over fear and bondage to the enemy. Passionate in sharing God’s Good News about Jesus, the author desires to encourage people to never lose hope. Because we all ‘hobble’ before God in need of Him. When not writing, Andrea loves spending time with her children and grandchildren, and enjoys cycling on the open roads with her husband, David.

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