There are mo­ments in life when we be­come pris­on­ers of our past. We re­mem­ber the mis­takes, fail­ures, dis­ap­point­ments, re­la­tion­ships that went wrong, op­por­tu­ni­ties we missed, and the things oth­ers have said about us. Some­times, peo­ple re­mind us of who we used to be long af­ter God has be­gun trans­form­ing who we are be­com­ing.

But hear this clear­ly: your past may ex­plain some things about you, but in Christ, it does not have the au­thor­i­ty to de­fine you.

Your past is a chap­ter. It is not the whole book. One of the most pow­er­ful ex­am­ples of this is found in the sto­ry of Ra­hab in Joshua 2. Ra­hab had a past. She car­ried a rep­u­ta­tion. Yet, when the spies came to Jeri­cho, some­thing changed. Ra­hab demon­strat­ed faith. She recog­nised there was a God at work, and she chose to align her­self with Him.

Ra­hab wasn’t on­ly con­cerned about her­self. She was con­cerned about her fam­i­ly. She asked for pro­tec­tion for her fa­ther, moth­er, broth­ers and sis­ters. She un­der­stood that the God she was be­gin­ning to trust was a God of for­give­ness, re­demp­tion and res­cue.

Ra­hab placed a scar­let cord in the win­dow as a sign of where she was. That cord be­came a sig­nal of res­cue. When de­struc­tion came to Jeri­cho, the place marked by that cord be­came a place of sal­va­tion.

Think about that.

The very woman whose past could have dis­qual­i­fied her be­came the woman God marked for re­demp­tion.

Ra­hab’s sto­ry didn’t end with Jeri­cho.

Joshua 6:22-25 tells us that Ra­hab and her fam­i­ly were res­cued. But God’s plan went even fur­ther. Ra­hab even­tu­al­ly be­came part of the lin­eage through which Je­sus Christ came in­to the world.

What a tes­ti­mo­ny!

God did not dis­qual­i­fy Ra­hab be­cause of her past. He re­deemed her past and in­cor­po­rat­ed her in­to His pur­pose.

That should give some­body hope to­day.

There is no sto­ry too bro­ken for God to re­deem.

There is no mess too com­pli­cat­ed for God to clean up.

There is no fail­ure too great for God to for­give.

There is no life so dam­aged that God can­not re­build, re­store and re­pur­pose it.

We, as hu­man be­ings, some­times for­give peo­ple but refuse to re­lease them.

But Je­sus doesn’t op­er­ate like that.

His blood, His stripes, His death and His res­ur­rec­tion re­veal the depth of His love for us. He doesn’t keep a record of our fail­ures to use against us. He calls us for­ward.

Isa­iah 1:18-19 gives us this beau­ti­ful in­vi­ta­tion: “Come now, and let us rea­son to­geth­er.”

No­tice the in­vi­ta­tion.

God is not say­ing, “Stay away from Me be­cause of what you have done.”

He is say­ing, “Come.”

Be­cause God is not in­ter­est­ed in keep­ing you trapped in yes­ter­day. He wants you po­si­tioned to re­ceive what He has pre­pared for to­mor­row.

Psalm 103 re­minds us of the char­ac­ter of our God. He is a God of com­pas­sion, grace and love. He knows our weak­ness­es. He knows our fail­ures. He knows our his­to­ry. Yet He still choos­es to love us.

Scrip­ture tells us that He sep­a­rates us from our sins.

So why should we con­tin­ue car­ry­ing what God has al­ready re­leased?

There must come a point when you stop look­ing back­wards and start look­ing for­ward.

Isa­iah 43:18-19 says, “Re­mem­ber ye not the for­mer things, nei­ther con­sid­er the things of old. Be­hold, I will do a new thing.”

God is say­ing, ... Look again.

Some­thing new is hap­pen­ing.

You may not see it yet.

You may not un­der­stand it yet.

But God is still work­ing.

Have faith that recog­nis­es the hand of God even when you can­not yet see the fin­ished prod­uct.

Be­cause God is writ­ing your sto­ry.

If God has made you a promise, He will keep His Word.

Peo­ple may for­get you.

Peo­ple may aban­don you.

Peo­ple may stop be­liev­ing in you.

But God re­mem­bers you.

Re­mem­ber Ra­hab and that scar­let cord.

It was a sign.

A de­c­la­ra­tion that, de­spite every­thing hap­pen­ing around her, God knew ex­act­ly where she was.

And God knows ex­act­ly where you are to­day.

He knows your pain, your his­to­ry, the mis­takes you wish you could erase, the op­por­tu­ni­ties you wish you had tak­en.

He knows the peo­ple who hurt you, the things you have strug­gled to for­give, even your­self.

Still, He says, Come, Come to Me.

Let Me re­deem it.

Let Me re­store you.

Let Me re­build you.

Let Me write the next chap­ter.

Your past may be part of your tes­ti­mo­ny, but it does not have to be­come your prison.

Don’t spend the rest of your life star­ing at a door God has al­ready closed when He is open­ing an­oth­er one in front of you.

Don’t keep re­hears­ing what hap­pened yes­ter­day when God is prepar­ing you for to­mor­row.

Look for­ward.

If God could take Ra­hab, her his­to­ry, her rep­u­ta­tion and her cir­cum­stances and place her in the lin­eage of Je­sus Christ, then sure­ly, He can take your sto­ry and use it for His glo­ry.

So, lift your head.

Dry your eyes.

For­give your­self.

Re­lease what needs to be re­leased.

Stop al­low­ing yes­ter­day to steal the pos­si­bil­i­ties of to­mor­row.

Your scars may tell a sto­ry, but they do not de­ter­mine your des­ti­na­tion.

The blood of Je­sus has al­ready marked the door.

Grace has al­ready made a way.

Re­demp­tion is still avail­able.

Restora­tion is still pos­si­ble.

Your God is still writ­ing.

Don’t look at the past. Look at the fu­ture.

Be­cause the best chap­ter of your sto­ry may not be be­hind you.

It may be the chap­ter God is writ­ing right now.