The Books I Carry, Releasing My Past to Step Into Love!
- MS
- Feb 7
- 11 min read
The Library of My Life, where it all began!
As a child, I loved libraries. They were a world within a world, waiting to be explored. The towering shelves, the scent of old paper and ink, and the way my footsteps echoed on the quiet floor felt like stepping into a secret world. I would wander every aisle, running my fingers along the spines of books, imagining the stories waiting inside.
The library felt endless back then, impossibly vast, stretching beyond what my tiny legs could explore in a single afternoon.
Each aisle was a secret passage, each shelf a doorway to another world. I loved how stories lived there, tucked between pages, waiting for someone to find them.
And then, one day, I found myself in another kind of library, the library of my unfinished stories, where I realized I wasn’t alone.
I had grown to understand that I carried an inner library, a collection of old stories, past hurts, and pages I kept rereading, hoping the ending would somehow change. A collection filled not just with stories I had read but the ones I told myself about my life. Some were beautiful, full of hope and wonder. But others? Others were heavy, worn from overuse, pages smudged with old hurts and scribbled with justifications: If it weren’t for them… If I had known then what I know now… If only…I stacked these books high, dragging them wherever I went as if confirming my past was responsible for my present. As if it would somehow make my life feel more in control. But instead, all it did was weigh me down.
In those moments, I recognized the importance of forgiveness, not just for others but for myself. But what if I could rewrite them? What if I could walk through these aisles with Jesus, pull those heavy books off the shelf, and decide which ones to keep and which ones to let go? This was my library, my stories, my life. I had the power to rewrite them, to shape my own narrative.
That’s precisely what we’re about to do.
Standing in the library of my unfinished stories, I realized I wasn't alone. Jesus was there, waiting, flipping through the pages of the books I’d been carrying for far too long. With a knowing smile, He motioned for me to sit down.
“Ready to do some editing?” He asked.
And just like that, my most excellent adventure began. I didn't know what lay ahead, but I was ready to embark on this journey of self-discovery and healing, guided by the gentle wisdom of Jesus. In this exquisite library, where the pages turned like the seasons of life, I found comfort in knowing that every story of forgiveness was a reminder of the beauty that comes from understanding, acceptance, and the playful twists our lives often take. In this library, forgiveness was celebrated as a cornerstone of personal growth, a gentle reminder that every ending can spark a new beginning.
The library was quiet except for the sound of pages turning and the occasional creak of an old wooden chair. The scent of paper, dust, and something warm like cinnamon or honey filled the air.
I walked past the endless shelves, each lined with books carrying stories I’d told myself repeatedly.
The library was endless, stretching beyond the eye's vision. Sunlight streamed through towering windows, casting golden hues on ancient wooden shelves brimming with books, some dusty and unread and others glowing as if alive.
Jesus was there, sitting in a deep leather armchair, flipping through the pages of an old volume.
“Ah, you’re here,” He said, smiling. “I was just looking at some of your greatest hits, you know, the stories you keep rereading.”
I blinked. “My greatest hits?”
He gestured to a particular section of the library. The books there looked familiar. I stepped closer and saw the titles:
• The Life I Should Have Had
• Reflections of Regret
• Searching for Closure
• The Choices That Bind Us
• Unwritten Chapters
• The Silent Struggle
• Fragments of a Different Life
• Why Things Haven’t Worked Out
• The Case for Why I’m Stuck
• Dreams on Hold
• The Weight of Expectations
• Echoes of What Could Have Been
Oh, and all of them are bestsellers." He said with a playful smirk.
I groaned. “Oh, come on.”
Jesus smirked. “Hey, I’m just the librarian. You’re the one checking these out over and over.”
He plucked another one off the shelf, flipped through the pages, and cleared His throat dramatically. “Chapter Seven: Why It’s Totally Justified to Blame Somebody for Everything That Went Wrong.”
I crossed my arms. “It’s not that simple.”
“Of course not,” He said, snapping the book shut. “But let’s be real, you’re not just remembering the past; you’re using it to stay right about the present. The problem is, the longer you hold onto these books, the more they write your future.”
He flipped through the pages of another book, reading in an overly dramatic voice. “Chapter Four: If It Wasn’t for Them, I’d Be Fine, Chapter Eight: The Case for Why I Am Right and They Are Wrong.” He closed the book and raised an eyebrow. “Want me to keep going?”
I frowned, glancing at Him. “So what? I just drop it all? Forget it happened?”
Jesus shook His head. “Nope. You don’t have to forget. You just have to stop confirming why you’re stuck because of it.”
I exhaled, rubbing my temples. “So, how do I let go? Like, really let go? Because I keep thinking I have, and then something triggers me, and I’m back in the story.”
Jesus smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere. All of this says you’re human." He tapped the cover. “And that this story? It’s comfortable. Even if it hurts, it’s familiar.”
The library stretches endlessly, but today, Jesus led me somewhere different. We passed through rows of towering bookshelves, familiar sections, past heartbreak books, the shelves of why it all went wrong, and the volumes of what should have been.
Then, He stopped at an old wooden door. The handle was cool to the touch, and I gasped when I pushed it open. Inside was a Hall of Echoes.
The walls were lined with thick, ancient books, but instead of pages, they whispered. The room hummed with old phrases, words I don’t even remember saying aloud. Some were sharp and bitter; others were heavy and sad. One particular phrase circled around me, winding through the air like a thread: “If I had known this back then, I would be in a different place now.”
I froze. My stomach twisted.
Jesus watched me, arms crossed, leaning casually against a bookshelf. “Familiar?”
I nodded slowly. “It’s… constant. I didn’t even realize how much I say it to myself.”
He walked over to a podium in the center of the room. A massive book was lying open, ink still wet on the pages. He pointed to a sentence repeated over and over.
“If I had known this back then, I would be in a different place now.”
I stepped closer. “So… what do I do? Just stop saying it?”
Jesus leaned forward. “First, let me ask you, why do you punish yourself for not knowing what you didn’t know?”
I exhaled. “When you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous.”
He smiled. “Only because it is.”
I stared at the old book in front of me. “If I stop blaming myself, then what? I have to accept that everything happened exactly as it did, and that’s… unsettling.”
Jesus tilted His head. “Why?”
I fidgeted with the edge of a page. “Because if I wasn’t wrong, if I didn’t actually ‘mess up,’ then I have nothing to hold onto. No reason for why I feel stuck. No justification for why my life isn’t where I want it to be.”
He nodded. “Ah. So, you’d rather be right about why things aren’t working than free to make them work?”
Ouch. I let out a nervous laugh. “That’s a little painful.”
Jesus grinned. “Truth usually is. But it’s also the only thing that sets you free.”
Jesus smiled, turning the page. It was blank. “You don’t just stop a mantra. You replace it.”
I looked down at the blank page. “So… what do I replace it with?”
Jesus gestured around us. “How about the new story, you could be living. The relationships you want to create. The love you desire to give and receive. The abundance that surrounds you. How about the peace, you desire to have.”
He tapped the book again. “Every time you reread this one, you put energy into proving why today isn’t working. You reinforce why you can’t have what you want instead of allowing yourself to step into something new.”
He handed me a quill. “Let’s rewrite it. But first, let’s figure out what it’s costing you.”
I swallowed. “Well… it makes me feel like I messed up. Like my past self should have known better.”
Jesus nodded. “And?”
I took a deep breath. “It keeps me from trusting where I am now. Because if I’m always looking back, trying to ‘fix’ the past, then I don’t actually live in the present.”
His eyes shined. “Yes. And if you don’t trust the present, what happens to the future?”
I sighed. “I worry about it. I try to control it. Because deep down, I don’t believe I’m safe to just be where I am.”
Jesus squeezed my shoulder. “Exactly. This mantra has been acting like an invisible leash. It keeps you tied to the idea that the best version of your life is the one you missed. But that’s a lie.”
I looked at Jesus. "OK, so what do I replace it with?”
Jesus smiled. “Now, let’s break it down in a way that fits you.”
In a calm and reassuring tone, Jesus started to speak.
"For the deep feeler & meaning-seeker in you, it is time to rewrite the narrative gracefully. Here is a new, powerful reframe; instead of saying, If I had known this back then, I would be in a different place now, you choose a mantra that gives you freedom, like: I knew exactly what I needed to know back then, and I know exactly what I need to know now. Nothing was lost; everything led me here. I am not behind. I am exactly where I am meant to be." Each word felt like a gentle nudge.
"Next, take a moment to write a letter to your past self: tell her she didn’t miss anything, she was doing the best she could, and thank her for getting you here. Then, create a symbolic release: burn, rip, or send it off with the wind." His eyes radiated with compassion.
"Now let's repeat your new reframe: I reframe:“If I had known this back then, I would be in a different place now” with: I trust that I was always exactly where I needed to be. Nothing was wasted. Everything led me here.”
As I dipped the quill in ink, I felt Jesus watching over me. I pressed it to the blank page and slowly wrote: I knew exactly what I needed to know back then. And I know exactly what I need to know now.
His voice carried the weight of unconditional love and acceptance.
"For the achiever & doer in you, stop measuring progress by where you should be. Remember where you are is not a mistake. Instead of comparing your timeline to an imaginary one, focus on what’s real right now.
Set a letting-go goal, treat emotional healing like a project. Establish a deadline: By the end of this month, I will stop telling myself this limiting story. Track your success. Take immediate action toward the future, not the past. Do one thing today that your future self will thank you for. Don’t wait until you feel ready. Set a measurable goal for how you want to feel about your past, not just where you want to go. Ex: By the end of this month, I want to feel neutral when I think about XYZ. Track progress like any other success. Make peace with past “failures” by reframing them as training. Every setback was a class in the university of becoming you. Prove to yourself that you are not behind. Instead of looking back, take action now. Pick one thing you’ve been holding back on because you “should have figured it out sooner,” and do it. Today. Create a success timeline. Write down moments in your life where things worked out despite not knowing everything. This proves to your brain that you don’t need to have it all figured out. When you catch yourself saying the old mantra, interrupt it: Every time you think, If I had known…you stop and say: And yet, here I am, still moving forward, here I am, choosing differently now. Look for verses that resonate with the feelings you’re experiencing. Pair your affirmations with Bible verses. Take time to meditate on a specific verse that uplifts you."
I released my breath, feeling lighter than I have in a long time, ready to embrace new possibilities.
"For the adventurer & joy-seeker in you," Jesus continued, "make now irresistible: if you are stuck in the past, it’s because part of you thinks the past was better. So you make your present more exciting, try something new, go on an adventure, and create a moment worth remembering today. Give yourself an adventure that shifts your focus. Plan something that excites you, not to escape but to remind yourself that there’s more life ahead than behind. Practice joy as an act of rebellion against the past trying to define you. Dance, travel, laugh, cook, bake, create. This isn’t denial; it’s proof that life moves forward. Make letting go fun and turning it into a celebration: who says healing has to be heavy? Prove to yourself that joy is still possible despite the past. Refocus on exciting possibilities instead of past regrets. Make a list of things you want to experience that have nothing to do with making up for the past, things that exist purely for joy. When old thoughts come up, interrupt them with curiosity. Instead of spiraling, ask, what new story could you tell yourself instead? Make it an adventure to explore new narratives. Meditate on new beginnings, forgetting the former things and recognizing that God is doing a new thing. Replace negative thoughts with affirming scriptures that speak to your identity and future."
With each word, Jesus gently encouraged me to release my past doubts and embrace my current path.
Jesus leaned back, watching me absorb it all. The old whisper faded from the room. The book sealed itself, glowing faintly before disappearing into the shelves.
Jesus grinned. “So, think you’re ready to leave this room behind?”
I exhaled, lighter than I’ve felt in a long time. “Yeah. I think I am.”
"And what if I pick up the old book again?” I asked nervously, my hands trembling slightly at the thought.
Jesus grinned. “Then you notice, you laugh a little, and you put it back. Because you’re the one holding the pen now.”
We stepped out, leaving the Hall of Echoes behind.
And as we walked forward, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The whispers of the past faded like echoes in a distant bookshelf.
In that moment, the weight of old grievances and unhealed wounds began to lift. Forgiveness fluttered into my heart like the first page of a beloved book after a long, challenging chapter. It wasn't just about forgiving others, but also about embracing the tender act of forgiving myself. I had been holding onto burdens that were not mine to carry, shackles of guilt and regret that had entwined my being. I realized I was not missing anything. I was not behind. I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I wasn’t yearning for anything, not a moment lost or a step missed. I wasn’t trailing behind anyone or anything. I was precisely where I was meant to be, surrounded in the soothing embrace of the moment, fully aware of the beauty that surrounded me and the journey unfolding ahead.
His presence guided me, infusing my heart with an abundance of love and a profound sense of purpose.
It felt as though a gentle, guiding hand rested on my shoulder, offering reassurance and strength.
In that moment, I knew that with Him by my side, I could bravely confront both the challenges of the present and the uncertainties of the future, leaving the past behind.
"For God will never give me the spirit of fear, but the Holy Spirit who gives me mighty power, love, and self-control". (2 Timothy 1:7 in The Passion Translation (TPT))
"Here’s what my Heavenly Father says to me : “I know all about the marvelous destiny I have in store for you, a future planned out in detail. My intention is not to harm you but to surround you with peace and prosperity and to give you a beautiful future, glistening with hope." (Jeremiah 29:11 in The Passion Translation (TPT))
"Now God, the inspiration and fountain of hope, fills me to overflowing with uncontainable joy and perfect peace as I trust in Him". (Romans 15:13 in The Passion Translation (TPT))
"So then, my soul, why would you be depressed? Why would you sink into despair? Just keep hoping and waiting on God, your Savior. For no matter what, I will still sing with praise, for You are my saving grace!" (Psalm 42:5 in The Passion Translation (TPT))
