I have redeemed you and have set you free from the past

You mentioned ‘no regret of the past’ as if it is something that can be looked upon differently than as experienced. I have mentioned how I feel as if I have had my heart scarred by the results of bad decisions, that they have had a real impact upon my thought life, and that perhaps the trauma of them is manifested in the dreams I constantly have of being chased to destruction.

How do I begin to look upon these experiences differently – of poor decisions, of hurting others to accomplish my desires, of the need to feel I must redeem my past that I might move forward? I feel very much like a criminal – that I have done many wrong things, have given parts and time of my life in repayment, yet still carry the guilt and shame. Is a criminal truly set free in mind and heart?

And so, you see that you are not the guardian of your life. You see in the truest sense that you are the hired hand, temporarily in charge of something great you are not familiar with and do not value as I do, for you have not the understanding as I have of what that life is – and why I sacrificed Myself for it. When trouble comes your first response is to leave, to find some way to alleviate the pain – and so you run, and life is left alone. That is no longer the truth, for I have given Myself for that life, that you may have it abundantly, and as it should be.

I will never leave that life, for I have paid the ultimate price that I may own it eternally and give it to whomever I choose…and I have chosen you. There can be no fear of the past for I am here always.

You shall graze upon a thousand of My hills in peace and prosperity, without penalty of poor decisions, for I have redeemed you and have set you free from the past. It is no longer there, unless you actively look for it – but then you would have to take your eyes off Me, off the Shepherd who would guide you into all goodness. Therefore, do not regret the past or feel the need to redeem it, even if that were possible for you – for there is only one Redeemer, and He has set you free from all things. Continue to look to each moment as you are, for that is where I am.

A thief does not come, except to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they might have life and have it abundantly. Therefore, I have the power to lay it down, and I have the power to take it up again. – John 10.10, 18b

And so, you see that you are not the guardian of your life. You see in the truest sense that you are the hired hand, temporarily in charge of something great you are not familiar with and do not value as I do, for you have not the understanding as I have of what that life is – and why I sacrificed Myself for it.

God would cast humans as “hired hands” tending a life they neither fully own nor comprehend, pointing to a divine purpose that surpasses human understanding. This resonates deeply with the biblical narrative of stewardship, divine sovereignty, and sacrificial love. The imagery of a “hired hand” suggests humility and transience, acknowledging that life is a gift held in trust, not a possession to claim. The reference to “I gave Myself for it” evokes Christ’s atonement, framing life as so valuable that God Himself would sacrifice for it, yet so mysterious that humans struggle to grasp its full worth.

Together, these themes challenge us to trust in a purpose we cannot fully fathom, embracing our role as faithful caretakers rather than masters of our lives. This perspective invites a posture of surrender and faith. It’s a call to live with humility, recognizing our limitations, and with hope, trusting that the One who gave Himself for us holds the ultimate meaning of our existence.

“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep."

— John 10.11

When trouble comes your first response is to leave, to find some way to alleviate the pain – and so you run, and life is left alone. That is no longer the truth, for I have given Myself for that life, that you may have it abundantly, and as it should be.

The acknowledgment of the instinct to “flee, to ease the pain, leaving life unguarded” is strikingly human. It reflects the raw reality of our frailty wherein Jesus acknowledges that trouble is inevitable in this world. The instinct to avoid suffering is universal, yet the passage challenges this by pointing to Christ’s sacrifice as the antidote to despair.

The statement “I have given Myself for that life, so you may have it abundantly” directly echoes John 10:10, where Jesus contrasts the thief’s destruction with His gift of abundant life. This abundance isn’t merely material or temporal but spiritual and eternal. His sacrifice empowers believers to face trials without fear, knowing their life is secured by His victory.

This is not a passive endurance but an active embrace of the life God intends, where trials lead to maturity and completeness. His tone implies a gentle but firm reminder that fleeing pain risks missing the deeper purpose and joy Christ’s sacrifice enables.

“I have told you these things, so that in Me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

— John 16.33

That is no longer the truth, for I have given Myself for that life, that you may have it abundantly, and as it should be.

I will never leave that life, for I have paid the ultimate price that I may own it eternally and give it to whomever I choose…and I have chosen you. There can be no fear of the past for I am here always.

His statement resonates deeply with the Christian narrative of Christ’s sacrificial death and resurrection, which secures eternal life for believers. The language is intimate and personal, portraying God not as distant but as a relational presence who knows and cherishes His “chosen.” The call to “fear not the past” suggests a God who transcends time, offering forgiveness and freedom from guilt or shame, while the promise of “eternal care” evokes a sense of unbreakable security.

Emotionally, the statement offers profound comfort for those haunted by their past—whether by sin, trauma, or regret. By declaring the past irrelevant in light of God’s eternal presence, it invites believers to rest in a relationship that is both secure and forward-looking.

“I will deliver this people from the power of the grave; I will redeem them from death. Where, O death, are your plagues? Where, O grave, is your destruction?”

— Hosea 13.14

You shall graze upon a thousand of My hills in peace and prosperity, without penalty of poor decisions, for I have redeemed you and have set you free from the past. It is no longer there, unless you actively look for it – but then you would have to take your eyes off Me, off the Shepherd who would guide you into all goodness.

The idea that the past only exists if you seek it is profoundly liberating. It implies that our bondage to past mistakes is not God’s will but a human choice. This resonates with Paul’s call in Philippians 3:13-14 to “forget what is behind” and press toward God’s purpose. It’s a reminder that redemption isn’t just forgiveness but a transformation of identity—God sees us as new creations, not defined by our failures.

The “thousand hills” is a poetic way of expressing God’s boundless resources. It’s not just about material abundance but a state of soul-rest, as Psalm 23:2 describes with “green pastures” and “quiet waters.” The peace offered here is dynamic—freedom from anxiety about the past and confidence in God’s provision for the future. The use of “graze” suggests a gentle, sustained dependence on God, like sheep trusting their shepherd.

His words are also a sobering yet hopeful reminder of human agency. God offers freedom, but we can choose to cling to guilt, regret, or old identities. The verses suggest that turning to God—through faith, prayer, or worship—reorients us to His reality, where the past no longer defines us. Hosea 14:4’s promise to “heal their waywardness” underscores that even when we turn away, God’s love remains ready to restore.

The passage and verses together paint a picture of a God who is both sovereign and intimate—owning “a thousand hills” yet personally redeeming and guiding each individual. The message challenges us to release the past, not through our own strength but through trust in God’s redemptive work. It’s a call to live in the present, resting in His provision and aligning our gaze with His purposes.

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”

— Isaiah 43.18-19

Therefore, do not regret the past or feel the need to redeem it, even if that were possible for you – for there is only one Redeemer, and He has set you free from all things. Continue to look to each moment as you are, for that is where I am.

The message paints a picture of a journey from bondage to freedom, guided by a Shepherd who is both gentle and sovereign. The call to “keep your eyes on Me” reminds of the simplicity and power of focus. In a world full of distractions—regrets, ambitions, or the urge to “fix” what’s broken—this directive is a lifeline. The words portray a Shepherd who doesn’t just guide passively but actively seeks out the lost and leads them to restful places. This suggests that our role is not to strive but to trust, to follow where the Shepherd leads. This should evoke a sense of relief: you don’t have to have all the answers or control the path. The Shepherd’s goodness is the destination, not your perfection.

The instruction to “regret not the past, nor strive to redeem it” resonates deeply with Isaiah 43:18-19’s call to forget “the former things” and embrace God’s new work. We are reminded that God’s mercies are new every morning—each day is a fresh start, unburdened by yesterday’s failures. This is liberating but humbling; it strips away the illusion of self-sufficiency and points to a grace that doesn’t depend on striving.

Finally, the declaration of “one Redeemer” who has “freed you from all things” anchors everything in a singular act of salvation. Redemption is complete—sins are blotted out, and we’re transferred to a new kingdom. Job’s bold faith in a living Redeemer, even in his suffering, inspires one to trust that redemption isn’t just a future hope but a present reality. It’s a call to live as already freed, not as someone still chained.

Live lightly. Trust that the Shepherd’s path and the Redeemer’s work are enough.

“For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth.”

— Job 19.25