the way it has been is not the way it will be.

Four months ago, when Hurricane Helene washed away part of I-40 in the mountains between Nashville (where I live) and Charlotte (where my family lives), I felt like God said to me, “The way it has been is not the way it will be.”

Literally, the way I traveled to visit my family would be fundamentally different.

For twelve years, I have driven mostly the same route. When there is traffic or an accident, I can sometimes be rerouted, getting off one exit and driving back roads to get back on a few exits later — but never through the mountains. In the mountains, this particular stretch of the interstate is critical because there are no back roads. To get around an accident or a missing piece of road means going an entirely different way.

In the big picture, this is not a big deal. There are other roads. And air travel (which I’ve been opting for these days). A mudslide certainly doesn’t mean I’m not able to see my family. Still, that stretch of road washing away felt like a severing of sorts. Like the old way of doing something was also being washed away — but that old way was actually really sweet.

It was a long seven-hour drive by myself, but I kind of loved it. The way God met me there was unmatched. I prayed, cried, and encountered Him in a way that made I-40 (the mountains, in particular) feel like sacred ground.

Figuring out a new way to travel felt like I would be missing out on experiencing God in one of my favorite ways, and that felt unsettling. But then, it was like God was speaking Isaiah 43 directly to me, and reminding me that I am not missing out but leveling up.

But forget all that— it is nothing compared to what I am doing to do. For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? (vv. 18–19)

The verses immediately preceding these ones — the “all that” that God is saying to forget — describe how He made a way for the Israelites to cross the Red Sea on dry ground. An incredible miracle!

And yet, God brings it up only to tell them to forget it. Because that’s not all. There is more. Something new. Can you see it?

Honestly, in my own life, I can’t really see it. But I’m practicing.

I wrote that phrase down and put it over the month of January in the 2025 calendar to remind myself, and all of us: the way it has been is not the way it will be. Even if the way it has been was precious and powerful. Somehow, it gets even better.

God doesn’t want us to stay in past miracles or revelations. He wants us to keep seeking Him for more. If He can split the sea, if He can meet me as I drive through the mountains, what else can He do? What also is He already doing that He wants us to see?