One of my favorite Disney quotes comes from that crazy old baboon, Rafiki. "Yes, the past can hurt. But you can either run from it, or learn from it." I honestly think some people think of this as meaning the same thing as the old proverb, "Put the past behind you."

Need I remind you that Rafiki is directly contradicting Timon and Pumbaa, who said the latter quotation earlier in the film?

Where am I going with these Disney ramblings? Bear with me, I do have a point.

See, I'm coming out of a bitter season in my life. I dealt with more anger than I'd ever experienced in my life. And in my eagerness to move past that point in my story, I've almost taken to forgetting it.

There is a distinct difference between forgetting the hard parts of your story and moving on from them. You must never forget where you came from.

I'm coming off of several things I'd rather forget. First I went through a rebellious phase for about a year. Then I got diagnosed with diabetes. Then, in the course of a month, my dad had a stroke and my uncle passed away. I was betrayed by friends. I experienced heartbreak in all of its forms, and all of this packed into two very long years.

But now, I feel restored. My relationship with the Lord is thriving, my diabetes is behaving itself relatively well - for now, at least, my dad is doing well and my friendships are all healthy and flourishing. My heart has healed - though some wounds, like the loss of my uncle, will never fully mend.

There's just one problem. I have, of late, been blocking out memories of that time of suffering. They seem too painful to resurrect, and I wonder what will become of them if I forget entirely.

Which is why I'm determined not to.

You see, there are three reasons you must never forget where you've come from:

1. It is part of you.

You are your story. Your past may not define you, but it is part of what made you who you are today. Hopefully you like that person. I certainly do. And, if I look closely enough, I can pinpoint which parts of my journey made which aspect of the changed me I see when I look in the mirror now. She is stronger for what she's been through. My diabetes, for example, is a constant reminder of where I was before and where I am now.

2. It reminds you of where you must never return.

I remember who I was before the past two years of my life. She wasn't necessarily a bad person, but she was a lot more whiny than the Rachel you'll meet today. Among other things. She was a selfish girl. She spent more time thinking about herself and what she wanted than others and what they might need. She thought smaller than I do now. And she put God in a box. I miss her innocence, but not a whole lot much else.

3. The fact that you're still here and kicking means that your past glorifies God.

To quote Eliza Schuyler, "The fact that you're alive is a miracle." And while I'm firmly convinced she only said that because she knew it was a miracle no one had shot her husband yet, I also know that it applies even when you don't have a penchant for making people hate you. (Yes, I have no shame in the "Hamilton" references.) If you've let your past change you for the better, then being vulnerable about it serves one main purpose: To tell everyone how faithful God has been to you throughout your life.

And isn't that the point of it all?

(Author's Note: Tune in next week for my follow-up article about never losing sight of where you're headed, either!)