Creating habits of hiding, self-deception, and self-justification is a dangerous game, and I’m the first loser. I must own my wrongs fully. But that doesn’t mean I have to live under the guilt and shame of regret forever—I have a Saviour who offers full forgiveness freely, though it came at great cost to himself.
What would it be like to be able to look back at your whole life and say with confidence, “no regrets”? It sounds amazing, but I can’t say I know how it feels. When I look back, there are plenty of moments that are permanently stuck as perfect, vivid memories—not because I’m proud of them, but because of how much they make me cringe. Out of all the thousands of things I’ve forgotten, I’d love to be able to forget the mean and stupid things I’ve said and the foolish choices I’ve made and the embarrassing immaturity I’ve displayed, but those memories are firmly fixed in place. “No regrets”? I have to be honest, that’s not me. I have regrets.
That’s bad, of course, because it shows how often I’ve gone wrong. Sometimes the problems came from simple ignorance, but other times they were wilful—I knew better, and went ahead anyway. My biggest regrets remind me of these wilful failures, of my selfishness, and sin. They replay my bad attitudes, and pride. Can we change the channel, please?