Every believer, at some point, faces the pull of the past. Even when God has delivered you, healed you, or called you into something new, there are moments when the old thing feels safer—familiar, even comforting. The Israelites felt it when they left Egypt. You may feel it when you leave a relationship, a job, a mindset, or a season that shaped you deeply. Yet the journey of faith will always require you to release what was, so you can embrace what is—and what will be.
Jesus said, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:62 ESV). These words are both firm and freeing. They tell us that forward faith cannot coexist with backward longing. God does not lead you out of a season just to have you camp in regret. He leads you to teach you trust.
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When What Was Still Feels Safer Than What Is
Exodus 16 opens with the Israelites on their way to the Promised Land. Only weeks have passed since God parted the Red Sea and silenced their enemies. Freedom should have felt glorious. Yet instead of singing songs of victory, they murmured in complaint:
“If only the Lord had killed us back in Egypt,” they said. “There we sat around pots filled with meat and ate all the bread we wanted. But now you have brought us into this wilderness to starve us all to death” (Exodus 16:3 CEV).
They missed Egypt—not because it was good, but because it was known. Egypt represented predictability, routine, and familiarity, even if it also meant slavery. The wilderness, on the other hand, required daily dependence. It demanded faith for food, water, and direction.
When God calls you into a “new beginning,” it often comes with wilderness moments. You might not have the same support system, the same income, the same sense of control. And your flesh begins to crave what once felt stable. But God’s goal is not your comfort—it is your completion. The wilderness is not punishment; it is preparation.
When you miss the old thing, remember: you are not longing for the past—you are longing for certainty. And that certainty now lives in the presence of God, not in the patterns of yesterday.
When Release Feels Like Loss
Leaving something behind can feel like losing a part of yourself. It might be a season where you felt fruitful, a friendship that anchored you, or a rhythm of life that felt holy and known. Yet sometimes God closes doors not because the place was bad, but because it has served its purpose.
Think of Abraham, called to leave his homeland. Ruth, told to follow Naomi into a foreign field. The disciples, invited to drop their nets and follow Jesus. Every act of obedience required a letting go. And with every letting go came a stretching of faith.
If you are struggling to release what was, it does not mean your faith is weak—it means your humanity is real. God understands the ache of transition. He knows the weight of release. That is why He gives grace in the gap between where you were and where He is taking you.
It is okay to grieve the end of a season, even while celebrating the start of another. But do not confuse grief with regression. Grief helps you honor what God did; regression tempts you to return to what He already delivered you from.
God Provides for the Place He Leads You
The beauty of Exodus 16 is that even in their complaints, God responded with mercy. “Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘Look, I am going to rain down food from heaven for you’” (Exodus 16:4 NLT).
He could have rebuked them for their lack of gratitude, yet He chose compassion. The manna was not just provision—it was instruction. It taught them that God’s supply would meet them daily, not monthly. It trained their hearts to depend on Him moment by moment.
Likewise, when God moves you forward, He does not expect you to carry the resources of the old season into the new one. He provides fresh manna—new wisdom, new grace, new strength—for each day’s demand. But you must stop reaching for yesterday’s bread. It will no longer sustain you.
Maybe the old routine, the old relationship, or the old ministry rhythm no longer feeds your soul because it is not meant to. God is teaching you to taste His new provision—to learn that His daily grace is enough.
Looking Back Limits Forward Blessing
In Luke 9:62, Jesus used agricultural imagery to describe discipleship. “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” A plowman who keeps looking over his shoulder cannot cut straight lines. The furrows become crooked. Progress becomes slow.
Looking back is not always about sin; sometimes it is about sentiment. We look back to what once made sense. We replay what we would have done differently. We hold onto what gave us identity. But when you fix your eyes on the past, you blur your vision of the future.
The call of Christ requires forward focus. You cannot plow purposefully while reminiscing about what used to be. The new field requires new strength, new sight, and a heart anchored in where He is leading, not where He once led.
Jesus was not condemning memory—He was protecting momentum. There is a difference between remembering with gratitude and returning in regret. One builds faith; the other breeds fear.
The Gift Hidden in the Goodbye
Every release carries a revelation. Sometimes the lesson is about dependence. Sometimes it is about trust. And sometimes it is about seeing that the God of your past is still the God of your present.
In your moments of missing the old thing, remind your heart that God does not remove without reason. He never calls you out without calling you up. The old season was good because God was there—but He is still here. And His presence is not confined to the place you left.
The manna fell in the wilderness, not in Egypt. The miracle happened in motion, not in memory. That means you cannot stay stuck in nostalgia and still expect fresh bread. The same God who once met you in Egypt is now meeting you in your journey.
You may not see the full picture yet. You may only have enough strength for today. But forward faith says, “Even if I do not understand it, I will trust the One who leads me.” That trust turns mourning into movement, fear into faith, and endings into new beginnings.
When You Start to Miss the Old Thing, Remember…
You are not going backward; you are growing forward.
God is not repeating seasons—He is revealing new strength.
The wilderness is not where you lose yourself; it is where you learn who you are in Him.
What feels like loss is often the doorway to lasting peace.
God does not abandon what He begins. He redeems it. That includes you—your story, your lessons, your longings. When you feel the pull of the past, let it remind you of His faithfulness, not your failure. Because every time you trust Him in the transition, you prove that your heart is more attached to the Promiser than to the place.
Reflection Questions to think about
What season or situation do you find yourself missing, even though you know God called you to leave it behind?
How has your desire for certainty made it harder to trust God’s daily provision?
What “manna” has God been providing for you lately—strength, grace, insight—that you might be overlooking?
How might you honor your past without idolizing it, allowing gratitude instead of regret to lead your remembrance?
Affirmations to say to yourself
I will trust God’s provision for today instead of longing for yesterday.
I release what was and embrace what is, knowing God’s plan still unfolds for my good.
My past prepared me, but my future is where God’s promise lives.
I am moving forward in faith, not backward in fear.
New beginnings often start with a goodbye that hurts. But in that goodbye, there is grace. When you miss the old thing, remember—it is not the thing you miss. It is the sense of safety that only God can now provide. And He will.
Keep your hands on the plow. Keep your eyes on Him. He is still writing your story, one act of trust at a time.