Child of the 70s that I am, one of my favorite rock anthems of the era is Boston’s “Don’t Look Back,” the first track on their 1978 album of the same name.

The soaring guitars alone sound so glorious that lead singer Brad Delp could’ve been singing gibberish and I’d still have loved the tune. As it happens, though, the chorus has for-real words, and they pack a punch — especially for us OCD-ers:

Don’t look back (ooh, a new day is breakin’)
It’s been too long since I felt this way
I don’t mind (ooh, where I get taken)
The road is callin’, today is the day

Can you imagine feeling like that? Straining forward with such fervor that you completely forget yourself — including fear and habit — to the extent that you don’t even care where you’re going?

What would motivate a person to commit so trustingly to the unguaranteed, crazy idea of forward? That’s not someone thinking wistfully, “Yeah, I like the idea of ‘forward.’ I should try it sometime.” It’s someone with so much blind faith in whatever’s ahead that he just goes.

There’s an old saying that perfectly describes the Fear of Forward that we OCD people have: “Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.” You’ve heard that, right? In other words, better to stay in a lousy situation you’re familiar with than to risk finding yourself in an even lousier one. The ancient Romans said almost thing same thing: nota res mala, opima. “A known bad thing is best.”

OCD is a “known bad thing”; a backward-looking thing. It fears “forward” more than anything I can think of. With us, nothing’s ever done and everything needs to be re-checked. We’re so full of regret, doubt and fear that it’s never the right time to move on. There is no “forward” in OCD.

And yet that’s the against-our-nature direction Jesus calls us, isn’t it? Fearsome as it is, it’s the only way to recovery. He asks us to let go of the devil we know. He whispers, “Don’t look back.”

Now, did Jesus ever refer to OCD specifically? No, not by name. But He did talk plenty about how to follow Him, and it always involved leaving behind everything, no matter what it was. We see proof near the end of Luke 9, as Jesus is walking toward Jerusalem (and, ultimately, His crucifixion), when no fewer than three “fans” begged to follow Him. But here’s the kicker: each fell by the wayside on account of something he’d have been required to give up. The final guy, for instance, simply wanted to go say goodbye to his family, but Jesus said, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:62).

Coming on kinda strong there, Jesus, huh? But do you see the OCD implication? Even when it came to something as valuable as this man’s family, Jesus nevertheless said, essentially, “Nope. If you’re serious about coming with me, come right this second. You can’t go back even for that.” As sacred as family is, Jesus promised something more sacred ahead. And pursuing it required “ahead” to be the only option.

It’s interesting to me that when Jesus replied to His wannabe follower, he used a plow analogy. I feel fairly confident, as I write this, that you’ve never used a plow. I certainly haven’t. But when you think about it, it’s not all that different from a lawnmower, is it? I have used one of those — a lot — and you know what I’ve noticed? If you look down or backward as you’re pushing the mower back and forth across the lawn, the stripes you leave behind are going to look more like a bowl of spaghetti than the Major League Baseball outfield you were aiming for. No, indeed — the only way to get straight mowing lanes is to set your sights on a spot clear at the other end of the yard and move toward it without wavering. Do that, and when you do look back after the job’s done, you’ll see arrow-straight lanes.

When it comes to OCD, setting our sights forward is even more crucial than it is with plowing and mowing. As sacred and inviolable as our familiar OCD rituals feel, God has the same message for us today as He did for another infamous looker-backer, Lot’s wife: Don’t look back. We don’t have to keep turning around to revisit yesterday’s fears, yesterday’s rituals, or yesterday’s doubts. Christ is leading us somewhere — somewhere forward — with such security that we can belt out I don’t care where I get taken! at the top of our lungs.

Keep following Him. Every trusting step away from compulsions is a step in the right direction, even if it doesn’t feel comfortable at first. You know darned well that the answer isn’t where you’ve been, or even where you are right this second. Clearly, the devil you know has failed you. Why not trust the Savior who’s summoning you forward?