By JIM NICHOLS

From 1951 to 2008 one of the best known and most quickly recognized Americans was radio broadcaster Paul Harvey. On national radio his news and comment six days a week is estimated to have reached 24 million listeners every week. Like other popular personalities, he developed some trademark phrases and speaking mannerisms that made him instantly recognizable to his listeners. One technique was to end the first news story and, before moving on to the next say, “Page Two.” At the end of the broadcast he would invariably say, “And now you know the rest of the story.”

I have been thinking more about this concept of “turning the page” lately as I see my years accumulate and I ponder the contents of each past page of my life and anticipate any future pages. These page-turnings are examples of inevitable transitions. Like it or not (and often I do not like it—perhaps if I write about it, I will accept it better), we must be willing to let go of what we have known. We must move on from assumptions. This is what my body could do then, and this is what it can do now. These are the things that were important to me then, and these are the things that are important to me now.

Individuals who are described as “hoarders” apparently are driven to accumulate physical items they do not use; it is an obsession. Most of us would not fit into that category, but we certainly are reluctant to let go of much. This was my reputation, my place in society, my niche to “produce” something I deem to be potentially helpful to the world. Am I willing to relinquish all that? What will replace it? Maybe I should buy a physical or mental place (a “bigger barn” in Biblical words) and put all that stuff and attitudes away where I can access it if needed.

Somewhere in my attic I have an old shoe box that contains award medals from races I ran in high school and college; I was fast, and I have the medals to prove it.

It is not just physical things we cherish. We have relationships that were treasures and yet we have learned that even friendships are seldom permanent. When they dissolve, we are troubled leading to desperation and confusion. 

No doubt about it, letting go has consequences. On the other hand, letting go is the only way to move onto the next page. The next page will bring its own blessings and problems, but that inevitable step also includes God’s affirming care just as the previous pages have. We do not have to salvage and fix what went wrong on earlier pages. We are no longer exactly that same person. To attempt to be and do what the earlier pages held leads to futility. 

These are the strengths and weaknesses I have today; they are wrapped up in my body in invisible ways. When you look at a photo of yourself as a child, look at that child’s hands. Now look down at your hands today. They are the same hands. I find that an amazing and important thought.

Lately, I have been missing some important people from my earlier life. I have also realized that the list of such people is getting longer and longer. 

Transitions can occur only if we are willing to loosen our binding to our past selves. Those are my words and thoughts from an earlier page. Now I am on a different page.

In my opinion, one of the great gaps in scripture is the dearth of information from Jesus’ early life. God chose to put on human skin and walk around just as we do. I would like to know what Jesus thought and felt as he grew through childhood, adolescence, and to a young adult. He, too, must have been turning pages in his life.

If we believe that God’s image (imago dei) is over and in us, it should temper our tendency to look backward to past pages. Those strivings are over. Those addictions for control and influence are history. Let us turn the page. God has grace that appears in different forms on different pages.
Jim Nichols is a retired Abilene Christian University biology professor and current hospice chaplain