Regret. I probably wrestle with this one emotion above any other. That might seem surprising, since my story lacks much of the ups and downs in many more emotionally moving testimonies. I think that’s the very reason I struggle with it so much. It isn’t over specific regrets having hold over me due to past mistakes, but more so the constant running and avoiding of ever having to feel this emotion in the future. I make choices and over analyze just about everything to establish decisions that will hopefully never let a bit of regret leak in. My indecision arises less with wanting to get things right and more about having to live with the knowledge that I got them wrong. For me, this comes out in decision fatigue, hurry sickness, and analysis paralysis. Are you familiar with these terms? I’m fairly new to the existence of their terms though quite familiar with their presence.
Decision fatigue is defined as the “difficulty in making a good decision experienced as a result of the number of decisions one needs to take.” My, do we ever feel that today. Hurry sickness is used to refer to the struggle of always needing to be in a hurry or the inability to slow and relax. Some common indicators that you may struggle with such might be always needing to be in the shortest checkout line, the fastest moving traffic lane, and the ever constant scan of your methods and to-do lists to assess what’s most efficient and of course, the quickest. Analysis paralysis occurs when “an individual or group process overanalyzes or overthinks a situation can cause forward motion or decision-making to become ‘paralyzed,’ meaning that no solution or course of action is decided upon.”
I have all three. The combination affects just about every minute of my wakeful moments, and actually, probably also my sleep if clenching my teeth is any indication. One of the greatest indicators in my life has been being unable to enjoy my time running errands without children or having a break due to feeling as though I’m either taking too long to get back or I’m not utilizing my time to the highest efficiency. In the process of avoiding these “regrets,” aka taking 20 minutes longer or having to circle back to a target aisle I’ve already been down, I also avoid true rest, peace, and contentment. I sprint from ‘I told you sos’ and hide from ‘if onlys.’ In forming these patterns over the years, I’ve come to realize that efficiency isn’t always sufficient.
I've come to realize that efficiency isn't always sufficient.
Andrew and I have the beautiful gift of having both families in town. We get to have random lunches and playdates, and we also have the privilege of wracking everyone’s brains about investments we feel inclined to make. Each parent and/or sibling brings a different perspective to the table and because of this, we are surrounded with so much wisdom. If you know me at all, I truly value this. Wisdom is and probably always will be a theme woven in much of my writing. I feel it’s a crucial aspect of life as it has the potential to impact everything we do, whether due to its presence of lack thereof. If we are to lead lives worthy of our callings, we must do so with intentionality and well, wisdom. We see the detriment in Ecclesiastes (and the author’s life) that comes of making choices without it, or in Solomon’s case, despite having it.
Ecclesiastes 10:1 (NLT)
“As dead flies cause even a bottle of perfume to stink, so a little foolishness spoils great wisdom and honor.”
It’s important to note here that foolishness and mistakes are not the same. Foolishness is not putting any thought into what we choose while mistake insinuates that we didn’t have all the foreknowledge in making the decision. I believe in the power of living a life of wisdom, so I don’t want this message to downplay that at all. However, lately I’ve had to stop and ask myself: am I aiming to strike wisdom or just aiming away from regret? As I drove down memory lane of our early marriage decisions recently, I felt regret. Even after all the opinions. Even after making best decision after best decision. Even after pros and cons, prayers, and plain ole avoidance. There it was. Regret. And it felt like I was regretting not having more regrets.
When I self-reflected about why I was feeling that way, it wasn’t actually that I wished we had made more mistakes, but that if we had, I would not be still living in fear of the what-ifs. Don’t get me wrong, no choice has been perfect. No decision has been without problems or has always turned out the best. They’ve just all lacked boldness and confidence that the Lord can work out any path. I am glad we live with fewer consequences and I am most grateful for where we are right now, but my fear of failing often drowns that out. The mindset in which I’ve been leading tends to make any good effects feel as if we’ve narrowly escaped regret while any adverse effects feel like total failure.
When our goal is simply not to fail, it becomes nearly impossible to recognize provision. And if our focus is on avoiding mistakes, we must keep running and overthinking to avoid them catching up with us. We definitely will not be able to relax or enjoy the moment. I’m not proposing to act without wisdom, but I am proposing to act without fear of making mistakes. Nothing worsens the sting of regret than when we have lived our lives with the purpose of outrunning it, and yet it still catches up.
Nothing worsens the sting of regret than when we have lived our lives with the purpose of outrunning it, and yet it still catches up.
Not one decision is going to turn out perfectly, and we’re fine with that when someone else made it. That’s why we are desperate to have so many others’ approvals of our decisions. So that if it falls through, we do not have to face blaming ourselves. We can forgive others—we’ve been doing it all our lives. Not only is it taught, but we have to. If we never forgave others, we would have no friends and only estranged family. But we can be much harder on ourselves. One, I’ve got no place to go—I can be hard on myself, and there’s nothing myself can do about it. Two, I don’t do the work of empathy when it comes to my story. Three, I don’t show grace to myself because I hold the ever-constant belief that myself should have known better. What so often happens is that I take the knowledge I have in my hands today and look back on the girl who was deciding blindly, and I don’t forgive her for not seeing it. We so easily make that distinction for our friends and even come to their defense against their own regrets, but when it’s our case, we can’t separate what we know now with what we didn’t know before.
This very thing, the feeling we dread, is the thing we are all running from together right now. Some of us are strapping a mask on and stepping back into schools and back into an unknown world. Some of us are watching through the window and wondering if we’ll ever get to be normal again. There’s never been so much distinction between each and every person. In a world where you just need a gallon of milk, everything you do from the minute you get out of your car to the second you get back in is a political statement. It’s terrifying. I rarely even know what’s going on, and there’s no telling how many I offend because of it. But no matter what we are deciding or which way we go, we all have one unifying struggle. Am I making the right choice? No matter what the issue is or what potential consequences, in the back of our minds, we’re watching regret through the rearview mirror just hoping that it doesn’t catch up to us due to the choices we’re constantly forced to make.
I have family members with autoimmune diseases, so we have a vast array of necessary differences right now. My family of 5 is gearing up to go on a family vacation while my sister is battling with personal conviction to keep her 3 kids home until their medicine is regulated and the situation is more stable. Because of this, what would be a normal conversation feels more like a confession as we admit to each other our choices. I called my mom the other day to tell her about our family vacation plans knowing it sounded a little spontaneous and crazy. As I unfolded our plans to my mom, my voice held confidence, but the people pleaser in me cringed. Would she think me unwise? Unfeeling to others’ situations? A bad mom? When I had laid it all out there, although I hadn’t verbally asked for it, she spoke the most freeing words to me. I want to say it to you too in case no one else does.
“You have the permission to make mistakes. You have the permission to make the decisions that are best for your family and not someone else’s.”
She said whatever we chose to do with school or travel or anything else, there would be no 'I told you so' following behind. And I pulled into the target parking lot with tears over the words I needed to hear so badly instilling the affirmation our hearts crave. Mistakes don’t make fools—they make us inevitably human; and they will actually make us wiser.
Ecclesiastes 7:13-14 (NLT)
“Accept the way God does things, for who can straighten what he has made crooked? Enjoy prosperity while you can, but when hard times strike, realize that both come from God. Remember that nothing is certain in this life.”
There is a big distinction between aiming to live a fulfilled life of wise choices and a life devoid of regret. One perspective chases after God and the other runs constantly looking over your shoulder. So where will you set your eyes? We can run from regret the rest of our lives. We can slave over what’s best every moment. We can live for wisdom and avoid mistakes. And we probably will avoid many if we so choose. But always laboring as such is living as though we are in control, not God. Regret assumes that the outcomes of our decisions will not only shock God, but that they will also be unusable to him. That’s the lie that’s whispered to me in my fear of getting it wrong, but everything in the bible tells me that’s where God works the most.
Regret assumes that the outcomes of our decisions will not only shock God, but that they will also be unusable to him. That’s the lie that’s whispered to me in my fear of getting it wrong, but everything in the bible tells me that’s where God works the most.
Maybe for you it is a specific choice you’ve made in the past and the struggle you’ve had over forgiving yourself. Or maybe you’re like me, and it’s the haunting potential of such situations. Either way, grace abounds. Jesus Christ has forgiven it all, past, present, and future. If he went through so much to put to death our sins, our failings, and our mistakes from the past, present, and future, then we let's cease working so hard to keep them alive. Whatever crossroads you’re at, heed the Spirit, but also know that neither option will be perfect, and that is okay. Because you have the permission to make mistakes.
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