done something that looking back you think: How could I have done that? Or how
could I have said that? Or how could I NOT have weighed the options and made a
better decision? Surely if you’re human you’ve lived long enough to have at
least ONE regret! And if you’re a single parent, you’ve likely had two or three:
- How could I have lowered myself to that standard?
- How could I have acted that way?
- How could I not have seen the long range result of my actions?
One thing is for sure:
leaves one questioning their discernment. It leaves one bewildered in how to let
go and pick up the pieces. It leaves one sad, and that’s understandable, because
one of the side effects of regret is the feeling of deep loss: I’ve lost my
reputation. Or I’ve lost someone dear to me, or I’ve lost a great benefit.
Regret is painful. OUCH! It stalks you in the day and wakes you up at night.
Usually, regret has this component: you can’t fix it – all you can do is learn
to deal with it. And the worse part? YOU did it.
I haven’t felt the
aching wound of regret for many years until recently, and I can tell you, it’s a
difficult reality to overcome. In my new book for single moms, The Single Mom
and Her Rollercoaster Emotions, I wrote an entire chapter on guilt and shame.
But regret is a tad different (I wish I’d written a chapter on that topic – I’d
be reading it about now for myself).
As a child of God, am I the only one
who’s experienced regret?
Definitely not. I found biblical co-hearts:
Peter, when the rooster crowed three times; Judas, when he returned the 30
pieces of silver to the chief priest. David, when he committed sin with
Bathsheba. These men felt regret. Maybe your regret is from a sin committed, or
maybe like me, your regret is from sheer lack of insight and downright
stupidity. Either way, it’s a killer!
So what are we to do with our
regrets? While driving home today, God spoke very clearly to me. “Pam – submit
them to me, expect from me, learn from me, and thank me.” Let me share each
point of restoration:
Submit Your Regret to God
If you hold
the regret inside, it will do one thing: EAT YOU ALIVE! But when you yield it to
God, you are saying, “Lord, this is bigger than me. I am not able to strip it
out of my mind. The consequences are too grave, so it’s all yours, God. You say
you’re the healer and restorer of lost dreams? Then… Good. This one is for YOU!
I completely entrust it into your care.
Expect from God
I’m
fully convinced that we have not because we expect not. It’s hard to expect from
God when we’re buried ten feet under in regret. But expectation is a choice we
exercise, one that usually does not come naturally, and if it did, its result
would not be supernatural. God says in his Word, “I work ALL things together for
good” (Romans 8:28). My regret is in that “all” word. When we submit, our pain
becomes God’s possibility.
Learn from God
Regret comes
camouflaged in a valuable lesson. It sets into motion character development:
Lord, what do you want me to learn from this? Lord, how can I better listen to
you next time? Lord, do I believe that you will protect me in this? Regret is
the perfect soil to commune with God on a deeper level. Godly character always
grows out of adversity, not in the soil of ease and comfort.
Thank
God
Oh, my! This is so hard. Are you serious? Thank God for this
horrible feeling? Thank God for the consequences? How can we thank God when
we’re beating ourselves up? Friend, God never said that we had to feel thankful,
but that we had to offer the attitude of thankfulness. And why do we give thanks
for this dreadful feeling of regret that we brought on ourselves? 1
Thessalonians 5:18 commands, “And this is the will of God in Christ Jesus, be
thankful.” Why be thankful? Simple. It’s God’s will; therefore, I’m to offer it
even if I don’t feel like it.
I suppose the greatest promise while in the
muck of regret is remembering that God never wastes one sorrow, sadness, or
sense of loss. He will eventually turn our mourning into joy and our regrets
into something of a redeeming value. Oh, happy day!
[written by Pam
Kanaly]