Sunday, January 21, 2007

Regret

Regret.

When you did the worst thing you’ve ever done in your life, you probably didn't think of it as such. I’ve done a lot of bad things, countless mean things, several awful things, a few rotten things, and one or two atrocious things. As bad as that sounds, I still have never done anything nefarious, diabolical, fiendish, or villainous. That takes calculation and innovation, and I’m not clever enough. Maybe someday… Hopefully not. In that sense, it might be to my advantage to be simple.

But I got to thinkin’ how many regrets I have. One or two of them stand out more than others, and seem to pop up when I have a crummy day. They just materialize - It’s as though I get an instant replay, a review from the booth or a coaches’ challenge. I hear a little sound byte, then a voice comes in and says, “Remember that? You did that. Just wanted to remind you that you’re terrible.” It comes into my head, I wince, I get a little sick. It’s real.

And yeah, what I did – whatever I did – it was wrong. Bad move, Jim. It seemed like a good idea. Harmless enough. But in retrospect, as far as bad ideas go, it’s right up there with buying underwear at Goodwill.

I wonder if other people feel the way I do. Of course we all have regrets. Most of my real regrets have to do with making someone else feel an inch tall, notsomuch about other things: Getting the Tilapia because you want to know what Tilapia is; Milk was a bad choice; Should have taken the Beltline; Should have asked her out; Shouldn’t have asked her out; Shouldn’t have paid the $6.50 for White Chicks, etc. These don’t bug me… I’m sensible enough not to have a nervous breakdown about them. It’s the ones that don’t seem to go away that get to me.

All I can think is that it’s probably not the Creator of the universe putting them there. Jesus isn’t looking down and saying, “Hey dude, that girl cried… Don’t forget that. Oh, and that one… that certainly wasn’t politically correct.” God doesn’t nag. At least, He doesn’t nag unless we need it. And sometimes I do… I need him to be loud because I’m not always very quiet. But he doesn’t nag about stuff you can’t do anything about. Lest we forget about forgiveness.

I wonder about the people in prison who have done truly terrible things. What are their regrets like? Are some of them tortured? Are some of them vindicated?

I guess regret is evidence of conscience, evidence of Truth, of a Standard which we have broken. (That’s in Mere Christianity, by the way.) If we don’t regret, we don’t repent.

The Holy Spirit may bring about some dissonance in your conscience. But certainly not any nagging or crippling laments.

This really didn’t end up the way I planned it. Any thoughts?

One Love

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