Reconciling the Past, Present, and Future
There’s a sentence that has been floating around in my head for a long time:
Your present state dictates how you view your past and how you imagine your future.
At first, that thought unsettled me. Then it challenged me. Eventually, it exposed something I could no longer ignore.
For many of us, the past isn’t just behind us; it narrates us. Missed opportunities, painful decisions, and words spoken over us still shape how we interpret where we are today. And when the present feels limiting, it’s easy to conclude that the future will be more of the same.
This article isn’t about denying that reality. It’s about learning how to reframe it biblically, without shortcuts, and without pretending consequences don’t exist. And it’s about recognizing that this reframing is not something we do alone, but something God works in us.
A Story That Still Shapes Me
During my junior year of high school, my family moved to the Dominican Republic. What followed didn’t unfold the way I, or anyone, expected.
Because my Spanish wasn’t strong enough, and despite having “decent” grades, I was placed in the ninth grade. I was older, taller, already had a mustache, and clearly didn’t belong. Imagine walking into the classroom and having all the students stand up, thinking that you are their teacher. Let me just say that I didn’t last long.
Eventually, I returned to the United States, earned my GED, and enrolled in a business technical school. To my surprise, I flourished. I graduated with a 3.9 GPA. Teachers encouraged me. A writing instructor, in particular, awakened something in me. For the first time, college felt possible. I was motivated. I was ready.
Then one moment changed the trajectory.
I walked into my grandmother’s apartment, my father’s mother, whom I was living with at the time, excited to share my grades. I handed her the paper, expecting celebration.
She looked at it and said, “The only reason you got these grades is because you went to a junk school.”
Then she threw the paper on the floor.
That moment didn’t just hurt. It planted something. A quiet conclusion I didn’t know I was drawing at the time, My belief was shattered: that effort might not be worth the cost, and progress could be dismissed instantaneously. The passion and fire I had felt were hit with a spiritual bucket of water, a devastating, immediate off switch for college.
Naming the Present Without Despair
Here is the reality I have to name honestly:
- I don’t have a college degree.
- I don’t have a high-paying job.
- Certain doors are objectively closed.
- The future, from a practical standpoint, looks harder because of missed opportunities.
Scripture never asks us to deny reality. But it also never asks us to interpret reality in isolation. God meets us in truth, not to accuse us, but to guide us.
Over time, I’ve come to see that some of my present struggles—difficulty finishing things, hesitancy to step forward, and a lingering sense of being “behind”—were not simply issues of discipline or motivation. They were connected to unresolved wounds. And recognizing that wasn’t self-pity; it was clarity.
Joseph, Perspective, and Formation
The story of Joseph is often summarized too quickly.
Yes, Joseph forgave his brothers. Yes, he said, “You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good.” But notice when those words were spoken.
They came after years of suffering, faithfulness, and waiting. They came after Joseph had been tested emotionally, morally, and spiritually. Scripture tells us repeatedly that God was with him, shaping his character long before his circumstances changed.
Joseph’s perspective didn’t appear overnight. It was formed through a process.
That matters, because it reminds us that clarity often follows faithfulness, not the other way around. And that growth is something God patiently works in us over time.
Reconciling Time: A Process, Not a Shortcut
If joy and peace are always postponed until circumstances improve, they will remain out of reach. Reconciling the past, present, and future requires a way of living that is both honest and hopeful.
Here is the process I’m learning to walk through.
1. The Present: Learning to Tell the Truth
Healing begins with honesty.
Not rushing past disappointment. Not minimizing loss. Not forcing positivity. But allowing ourselves to name what is real.
Prayer becomes less about saying the right things and more about speaking truthfully. Over time, clarity emerges, not because the past changes, but because our understanding does.
2. The Past: Reframing Without Revising
What happened still happened.
The words were spoken. The impact was real. But the past does not get the final word on identity or direction.
As I’ve reflected, I’ve begun to see that even painful moments can be placed within a larger story, one where God was present, even when I couldn’t recognize it at the time. This doesn’t excuse harm, but it does prevent harm from defining the future.
3. The Future: Hope Without Illusion
The future may still be difficult. Some consequences remain. Some paths are steeper.
But hope doesn’t require certainty. It requires trust.
Rather than demanding a specific outcome, I’m learning to move forward with faithfulness—doing what is in front of me, today, without being paralyzed by what might never be.
Gratitude: Holding Time Together
Gratitude has become the discipline that ties everything together.
Not gratitude for pain, but gratitude for presence. Not gratitude because everything worked out, but because I was not abandoned.
Gratitude allows the past to be remembered without being relived, the present to be faced without despair, and the future to be entrusted rather than feared.
Living Free in Time
Reconciling the past, present, and future doesn’t mean everything suddenly makes sense.
It means:
- I don’t have to wait for circumstances to change to live with peace.
- I don’t have to let regret dictate identity.
- I can live gratefully now, not someday.
My story isn’t finished.
The future may still be hard.
But joy no longer has to wait.
And that, in itself, is freedom.