Pressing On: Letting Go, Leaning In, and Living Forward

A Crossroad in the Wilderness

Here we are—fifth Sunday of Lent. If you’ve been walking this journey intentionally, it’s probably gotten real by now. Lent has a way of doing that. It’s not just about giving something up; it’s about waking up. It’s about getting honest. Honest with God. Honest with ourselves. Honest about where we’ve been and where we’re going.

Paul’s words in Philippians 3 hit differently when you’ve been walking in the wilderness. He’s not just writing theory—he’s writing from prison. He’s been stripped of status, safety, and comfort. And yet what he says here is stunning: he’s not lamenting what he’s lost, he’s pressing on toward something better. Something more.

When we hold this passage up alongside Isaiah’s bold declaration that God is doing a new thing, Psalm 126’s song of restoration, and Mary’s extravagant gift at Jesus’ feet in John 12, we begin to see the heart of Lent unfold. Let go of the past. Lean into resurrection hope. Live forward with eyes fixed on Jesus.

When the Resume Doesn’t Matter

Paul begins with credentials—real ones. The kind of spiritual resume most of us would be tempted to frame and hang on a wall. Circumcised on the eighth day. Hebrew of Hebrews. Pharisee. Zealous. Blameless. If anyone had reason to boast in religious achievement, it was Paul.

But here’s the thing: he calls it all loss. Not just neutral, but loss—a liability, a weight. Why? Because it got in the way of truly knowing Jesus.

We have our own versions, don’t we? The church leadership roles, the theological degrees, the years of faithful service, the moral high ground we think we’re standing on. Lent asks us: what if all those things—good as they may be—are actually barriers to surrender? What if they’re tempting us to trust in ourselves rather than Jesus?

This isn’t to say those things are inherently bad. Many of them are gifts—ways God has shaped and equipped us. But they’re not the prize. They’re not the goal. The temptation is to make them our identity instead of letting Christ be our identity. That’s where the trouble starts.

Lent creates space to examine what we’re holding onto and why. Are we clinging to reputation more than humility? Are we guarding our legacy instead of following Jesus with open hands? Paul is reminding us that anything—no matter how impressive—that competes with Christ in our hearts has to be laid down.

Knowing Jesus, Not Just Knowing About Him

There’s a shift here. Paul isn’t trading one form of religion for another. He’s done with the game altogether. He’s not interested in being right—he’s desperate to be found in Christ.

This is a deeply relational move. It’s not about performance anymore. It’s about presence. Righteousness doesn’t come from rule-keeping; it comes from resting in what Jesus has done.

Isaiah 43 speaks to this: “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!” That’s not just poetic language—it’s a call to realignment. God is saying: “Stop living off the old stories. I’m moving now. I’m moving here.”

Being found in Christ means letting go of control. Letting go of the need to prove yourself. And instead, resting in the grace that finds you before you ever earned it.

There’s something powerful about being found. It’s not the same as arriving or achieving. It means someone was looking for you. It means you’re seen, known, welcomed. That’s what Jesus offers us—not another religious system, but Himself. That’s the new thing God is doing. He’s not just renovating our behavior. He’s renewing our hearts.

And when we stop obsessing over our performance and start focusing on presence, we realize that knowing Jesus changes everything. It reorders our values, resets our desires, and reshapes our relationships. It’s not about checking spiritual boxes. It’s about learning to walk with Him in the everyday, ordinary moments.

Resurrection Power and the Fellowship of Suffering

Paul doesn’t stop with knowing Jesus—he wants to know the power of His resurrection. But not just that. He wants to share in His sufferings, to become like Him in His death. That’s not exactly a winning strategy for church growth, but it is the narrow road of discipleship.

Here’s the paradox of Lent: suffering and resurrection are not opposites—they are companions. You don’t get one without the other. You can’t skip Friday and jump straight to Sunday.

Psalm 126 gets it. “Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.” Lent is about sowing in tears. It’s about confessing, repenting, letting the hard stuff work its way through our souls. But it’s not pointless. There’s a harvest coming. Joy is on the horizon.

When Paul talks about resurrection power, he’s not only pointing to what happens after we die. He’s talking about power to live differently now. Power to love when it’s hard. Power to forgive when it hurts. Power to keep going when it would be easier to quit.

But that power comes through suffering. Through walking with Jesus in the places where we’d rather not go. That’s where transformation happens. That’s where our hearts get remade. And in that fellowship—in that place of shared suffering—we don’t just learn about Jesus. We become more like Him.

Forgetting and Straining Forward

Paul’s honesty here is refreshing: “I haven’t arrived. I’m not there yet.” That should free us up. You don’t have to fake it. You don’t have to pretend you’ve got it all together.

But notice what he does: he forgets what’s behind and strains forward. That’s key. He doesn’t deny the past. He just refuses to be defined by it.

In John 12, Mary breaks open her jar of perfume and pours it all over Jesus’ feet. It’s a moment of total surrender. She doesn’t cling to what’s valuable. She lets it go. In doing so, she blesses Jesus in a way no one else in the room understood.

What are you holding onto that Jesus is asking you to lay down? What might it look like to press forward—not just in theory, but in costly, embodied acts of love?

Straining forward doesn’t always look dramatic. Sometimes it looks like small, quiet obedience. Choosing hope when you feel discouraged. Choosing forgiveness when bitterness feels easier. Choosing to show up again and again and again.

Forgetting what lies behind doesn’t mean erasing our past. It means surrendering its power to define our future. Paul is calling us to be people who live with forward-facing faith—anchored in grace but moving in the direction of resurrection.

Pressing Toward the Prize

Here’s the heartbeat of it all: “I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”

This isn’t about striving to earn God’s love. It’s about responding to it. Pressing on is a response to grace—it’s not a hustle for approval.

Isaiah says God makes a way in the wilderness. Psalm 126 tells us God restores our fortunes like streams in the Negev. John shows us a woman pouring out everything at Jesus’ feet. Paul says keep running—don’t stop now.

This is the call of Lent: not to earn, but to empty. Not to achieve, but to abide. Not to cling, but to surrender. And all of it is because we know there’s something more ahead. The cross isn’t the end—it’s the doorway.

The prize isn’t a platform or a promotion—it’s Jesus Himself. That’s what Paul is running after. That’s what we’re invited to run toward. It’s not always easy. Some days it will feel like we’re crawling, not running. But the direction matters more than the pace.

And here’s the grace: we’re not running alone. Christ runs with us. The Spirit empowers us. The Father is cheering us on. So press on—not because you have to prove something, but because you’ve been called by someone. Press on because Jesus is worth it.

Reflection Questions:

1. What part of your “spiritual resume” is Jesus inviting you to lay down?
2. How are you being drawn into deeper relationship—not just knowledge—of Jesus?
3. Where are you being asked to press forward, even when it’s uncomfortable?
4. What “new thing” do you sense God doing in your life right now?
5. How can you pour yourself out in love this week?

Don’t Look Back—Run Forward

So here’s the invitation: don’t stall out in the middle of Lent. Don’t coast. Don’t cling to what God is asking you to let go of. And don’t lose sight of the upward call.

Jesus is worth it. Worth the pouring out. Worth the pressing on. Worth the forgetting and the straining and the forward motion.

So press on, friends. With your eyes fixed on Jesus, your heart tuned to grace, and your hands ready to love.

Let’s keep running the race. Let’s press on.
“I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:14