There’s a phrase I’ve come to love:
Burn the ships.

It’s a metaphor rooted in a historical moment — when explorers arrived on new land and burned their ships so there was no turning back. No retreat. No plan B.
Only forward.

It means full commitment.
It means letting go of what once carried you.
It means choosing not to return to the very thing God rescued you from.

Lately, I’ve felt this stirring in my spirit —
to stop entertaining the “what ifs” and “maybes” of going back.
To stop peeking over my shoulder at the comfort of the familiar, even if the familiar was broken.
To stop waiting for closure or validation or proof that I made the right call.

Sometimes, you don’t get that.

Sometimes, the most faithful thing you can do is move forward anyway.

Burning the ships doesn’t mean you hate where you came from.
It just means you’re not going to live there anymore.
You’re not going to worship a past version of your life
just because it’s what you knew.

You’re going to trust the God who calls you into the unknown.
You’re going to walk away, even with trembling legs,
because you finally believe He has something better ahead.

I don’t know what your “ship” is.
But I know what mine are.
And I know the quiet freedom that comes when I set them aflame —
not in bitterness,
but in boldness.

Because sometimes the fire that ends one thing
is the same fire that lights the way forward.

Anchor Verse:
“But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal…”
— Philippians 3:13–14 (NIV)