How can I turn back?

… how can you turn back…? 

This was Paul’s question to the struggling Galatian Christians (Gal 4:9). And it is a question I ask myself from time to time when I’m struggling. Life in a fallen and bent world is so hard. And following Jesus through it is a pilgrimage full of difficulties. But how can I turn back?

I’ll never forget when Jesus asked me to follow him. I’ll never forget the season of life that I was in. I’ll always remember the gnawing loneliness I felt my sophomore year of college at UNI. I’ll never forget the cold tile floors and block walls of my dorm. There was a stillness to that room. There was a quiet desperation imprisoned within those walls. I knew I was alone. It was a loneliness that filled me with unbearable dread. I wanted to be free from it. 

And I’ll never forget the car I drove in those days. It was a 1999 Ford Taurus. That bubbly old family sedan. It was my first car. Aside from discovering it topped out at a clean 99mph, the strongest memory I have in that car is when I knew I was no longer alone. 

Driving down 23rd street in Cedar Falls I was about to turn on to Hudson road. And as I was turning a thought that was growing at me for weeks had suddenly broken through, as if some great cosmic truth had passed through and penetrated my soul. The thought was this: I am no longer alone. 

What overcame me in that moment behind the wheel was a spiritual awakening. The pneuma had broken through. The Spirit of God had taken up residence in my body at some point in that season of my life. And the result was an undeniable sense that I was now in a relationship with a being that could really know me. At one point I “did not know God” (Gal 4:8). But after I began to follow Jesus I “came to know God, or rather to be known by God” (4:9). It was with Jesus that I actually began to discover a real relationship of knowing and being known. 

But since this awakening I still trip on the path with Jesus. I sometimes stumble over some poky thing laying over the path, smack my forehead in the dirt, and experience the dizziness of doubt and I ask, is this worth it? Is this cross bearing, narrow way walking, self denying journey through the wilderness worth it? The answer is yes. Because how can I turn back? There is nothing to turn back to. There is only emptiness. Turning back would be to slink into the void. It would be to enter into the interminable loneliness I escaped from years ago. Turning back would be to sever myself from Christ (5:4). 

And that is something that cannot be done. Even as I write this I sense the quakes and groanings of the Spirit (Rom 8:26)  oozing from the fault lines of my personal struggles. I sense the breeze of fresh air the Holy Spirit brings, even as He causes the dead boughs to creak in the wind. I know his hand is on my shoulder while the other is lifted up in prayer, asking the Father to persevere me to the end (Jude 24). I know this because I know Him. And He knows me.

There is a solidarity I feel with the disciples when I experience a twinge of doubt. The question of Jesus rings in my ears like spiritual tinnitus. “Do you want to go away as well” (Jn 6:67). The ringing of this question seems to linger longer because of the intensity of the battle in our culture. The grenades of ridicule, misunderstanding, and denial that are thrown by our unbelieving culture seem to be exploding more frequently and with more intensity. And even when I discover that I’d been sitting on a live one, I recover with the same answer. “Lord, to whom shall [I] go” (Jn 6:68)?  

How can I turn back? I know that turning back is turning away. And I cannot turn my face from Jesus, my faithful friend. He is my true and better Samwise. He has been my companion through the land of shadow. He has been the burden bearer when my knees buckle under the weight. He has been the bringer of renewed hope when the fires of doom cough. And he has been the one to swing the sword and hold the light when Satan, the adversary, seeks to strike me in my wearisome sleep. 

So I will not turn back. And I don’t believe any of the friends of Jesus will either. Because he is a true friend. He will never leave or forsake you (Joshua 1:5). 

And so the only direction on this journey with Jesus is forward. Onward Christian. Go with the confidence of one who is in an unbreakable bond of love. No matter the darkness of the valley. No matter the loneliness of the landscape around you. Christ will always be your light and he will always be your friend.