Behold, I Will Do a New Thing: Reflecting on Isaiah 43:18

“Remember ye not the former things, neither consider the things of old.” – Isaiah 43:18 (KJV)

At first glance, these words from the prophet Isaiah might seem puzzling, even troubling. Are we not repeatedly commanded throughout Scripture to remember God’s mighty works? Are we not told to teach our children of His faithfulness in generations past? Yet here, speaking through His prophet, the Lord instructs His people to forget the former things and cease pondering the things of old.

To understand this seeming contradiction, we must examine the context in which these words were spoken. Isaiah 43 finds the children of Israel in a season of profound distress. They had witnessed the glory of their kingdom fade, their temple destroyed, and their people carried away into Babylonian captivity. The weight of their circumstances pressed heavily upon them, and perhaps even more crushing was the weight of their own failures that had brought them to this place.

In their despair, they clung to memories of former glories—the exodus from Egypt, the parting of the Red Sea, the conquest of Canaan under Joshua. These were indeed mighty works of God, testimonies to His power and faithfulness. Yet in their present darkness, these memories had become chains rather than wings, binding them to a past that seemed to mock their current suffering rather than inspiring hope for their future.

It is into this context that God speaks these remarkable words through Isaiah. The Lord is not commanding His people to develop spiritual amnesia or to dishonor His past mercies. Rather, He is calling them to lift their eyes beyond the boundaries of their present understanding and their past experiences to behold something unprecedented—something so magnificent that it would eclipse even the greatest demonstrations of His power in their history.

The very next verse reveals God’s heart: “Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert” (Isaiah 43:19). The God who parted the Red Sea promises to do something even greater. The God who provided manna in the wilderness promises rivers in the desert. The God who delivered them from Egyptian bondage promises a liberation so complete that it will dwarf all previous redemptions.

This prophecy found its initial fulfillment in the return from Babylonian exile, but like many prophetic utterances, it points to something far greater. In the fullness of time, God indeed did “a new thing”—He became flesh and dwelt among us. The Word was made flesh, and through His death and resurrection, Jesus Christ accomplished a deliverance that surpassed every Old Testament type and shadow.

For us today, Isaiah 43:18 speaks with profound relevance. How often do we find ourselves trapped in the prison of our past—rehearsing old failures, reliving former glories, or allowing yesterday’s disappointments to define tomorrow’s possibilities? The Lord calls us to the same spiritual discipline He required of Israel: to stop allowing our past to limit our vision of His future work.

This is not a call to ignore the lessons of history or to forget God’s faithfulness in bygone days. Rather, it is an invitation to trust that the God who has been faithful is preparing to demonstrate His power in ways we have never imagined. Our past victories, as sweet as they may be, must not become the ceiling of our expectations. Our past defeats, as bitter as they may have been, must not become the boundaries of our hope.

The Christian life is meant to be one of continual spiritual progression. “But the path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day” (Proverbs 4:18). Each season of our walk with God should surpass the previous in intimacy, fruitfulness, and demonstration of His glory. Yet this requires the spiritual courage to release our grip on familiar territories and trust God for new manifestations of His grace.

Consider the woman with the issue of blood, who had exhausted all earthly remedies and spent all her living on physicians. When she encountered Jesus, she had to look beyond twelve years of disappointment and reach out in faith for something entirely new. Consider blind Bartimaeus, who had to ignore the voices telling him to hold his peace and cry out for a miracle he had never experienced. Consider the disciples, who had to leave their nets and familiar livelihood to follow Christ into an adventure they could never have imagined.

In each case, breakthrough required a willingness to move beyond the limitations of past experience and embrace the possibilities of divine intervention. This is the heart of Isaiah’s message: God’s future mercies will so far exceed His past blessings that holding onto yesterday will actually hinder our ability to receive tomorrow’s grace.

The application extends beyond individual Christian experience to the life of the Church. How often do we allow tradition to become traditionalism, mistaking the familiar for the spiritual? While we must guard carefully the doctrinal foundations once delivered to the saints, we must remain open to fresh expressions of God’s power and new strategies for reaching a lost world. The God who moved mightily in past revivals is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think in our generation as well.

As we meditate on Isaiah 43:18, let us hear it not as a rebuke but as an invitation—an invitation to expand our vision, enlarge our expectations, and prepare our hearts for the “new thing” God desires to do in our midst. The same God who spoke worlds into existence, who parted seas and raised the dead, who sent His Son to redeem fallen humanity, is not finished demonstrating His glory in the earth.

May we have the faith to release our grip on yesterday’s victories and defeats alike, that our hands might be free to receive the unprecedented blessings God has prepared for those who love Him. In doing so, we position ourselves not merely as students of history, but as participants in the continuing story of God’s redemptive work in the world.

“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end” (Jeremiah 29:11). The best is yet to come.