I’ve driven by this fallen tree for several weeks now. It’s not far from my parents’ house, and, in the back and forth of visits and errands, it has never failed to arrest my attention.
It seems a metaphor for my life:
speaking,
bearing witness,
commiserating,
but also conveying hope.
Shakespeare’s quote, “What’s past is prologue,” comes to mind each time I happen upon this scene. Admittedly, I haven’t read The Tempest in decades, and have assuredly forgotten more than I remember, but the quote remains.
“What’s past is prologue” suggests that our past experiences and history serve as a foundation for what follows. It implies that the events and lessons from our past shape and set the stage for our future. It emphasizes the idea that our history influences what lies ahead and prepares us for whatever challenges and opportunities the future holds.
Past is prologue. Past is preparation. Past is provision. It is not, however, prophecy. This is an important distinction.
Storms wreak havoc, winds blow, and trees fall, but the story doesn’t end there. The aftermath always has an after.
The past informs the present. It does not dictate it.
No matter the obstacles, difficulties, or setbacks that litter our paths, we always have the option to grow—the chance to flourish—the choice to thrive where death, destruction, or damage have left their marks.
Those things shape us. They do not define us.
They do not disqualify.
They do not decree.
They do not derail.
They do not determine what follows.
They merely demonstrate how we ended up there, broken on the side of the road.
The past is prologue. The rest, though, is redemption.
The past, however tumultuous or challenging, does not determine our destiny. It is prologue, not prophecy. What that tree, and our lives, and God’s promises proclaim is that we are not bound by the circumstances and happenings that have come before. What has been, does not have to be what will continue.
We can neither change nor escape the past, but we can entrust it to the One who redeems it—the One who refuses to leave us roadside and forgotten.
Trees fall.
Tears fall.
Darkness falls, but hope rises.
The silent spectacle of the fallen tree, with its vibrant shoots and green leaves, paints an indelible portrait of our Father’s unwavering faithfulness to chart our course from roadside to redemption.
May we never take for granted the growth He fosters in barren places. May we never cease to marvel at the new life He offers amidst a backdrop of desolation.
What’s past is prologue. What’s 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 is redemption.
“Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.”
~ 𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐚𝐡 𝟒𝟑:𝟏𝟗