Sæktu forritiðThe Variable LifeSýnishorn
“Moving Past Regrets”
One winter I rode a faded red plastic sled down the hill and through my neighbor’s split-level living room window. It felt like emerging from the rubble of a bombed building, my ego dashed into a million pieces. I preferred not to tell my parents, but I had to. Multiplying fear would envelop my young mind if I tried to hide it. My father didn't seem angry, but I felt overwhelmed by guilt. He walked with me to the neighbors’ and made me tell a short, kind woman I broke something of hers. She wasn't angry either, just sort of quietly sad, but she didn't want me to feel bad. As we walked home, my father said to gather my allowance.
We all have regrets. The worst are the ones we won't admit. It's easier to beat ourselves up over things we can't change than to accept the messy mistakes of our former selves. The difference is in the direction we face and move. Rather than wallow in regret, we’re offered second, third, and thousandth chances. We’re offered new beginnings, a fresh start. We’re offered grace.
It reminds me of Lamentations, a book in the Bible that’s really a downer except one part. It’s as if the brooding author paused, picked up his head, and looked toward the heavens, realizing the world isn’t always doom and gloom.
Sometimes we’re so wrapped up in our failures, we forget God’s been nearby all along. It’s not that he doesn’t see our mistakes or we have to hide from him. The miraculous thing about God is he accepts us as we are, failures and all, then helps us change to get past the mistakes that hold us down.
When we encounter grace in light of our failures, we experience part of a better way of life Jesus talked about; we’re brought to a better place when we admit we don’t deserve to be there (Matthew 23:12, James 4:6). We’re saved from a guilt-ridden conscience and our failure. We’ll still face consequences, yet Jesus hasn’t abandoned us; he is for us.
We need that grace in our relationships, inadequate plans, and every choice we’ll ever make. Grace teaches us to be unafraid in the myriad of life’s complexity. It equips us to stumble forward, learning to walk in faith, trusting the God who forgives.
One winter I rode a faded red plastic sled down the hill and through my neighbor’s split-level living room window. It felt like emerging from the rubble of a bombed building, my ego dashed into a million pieces. I preferred not to tell my parents, but I had to. Multiplying fear would envelop my young mind if I tried to hide it. My father didn't seem angry, but I felt overwhelmed by guilt. He walked with me to the neighbors’ and made me tell a short, kind woman I broke something of hers. She wasn't angry either, just sort of quietly sad, but she didn't want me to feel bad. As we walked home, my father said to gather my allowance.
We all have regrets. The worst are the ones we won't admit. It's easier to beat ourselves up over things we can't change than to accept the messy mistakes of our former selves. The difference is in the direction we face and move. Rather than wallow in regret, we’re offered second, third, and thousandth chances. We’re offered new beginnings, a fresh start. We’re offered grace.
It reminds me of Lamentations, a book in the Bible that’s really a downer except one part. It’s as if the brooding author paused, picked up his head, and looked toward the heavens, realizing the world isn’t always doom and gloom.
Sometimes we’re so wrapped up in our failures, we forget God’s been nearby all along. It’s not that he doesn’t see our mistakes or we have to hide from him. The miraculous thing about God is he accepts us as we are, failures and all, then helps us change to get past the mistakes that hold us down.
When we encounter grace in light of our failures, we experience part of a better way of life Jesus talked about; we’re brought to a better place when we admit we don’t deserve to be there (Matthew 23:12, James 4:6). We’re saved from a guilt-ridden conscience and our failure. We’ll still face consequences, yet Jesus hasn’t abandoned us; he is for us.
We need that grace in our relationships, inadequate plans, and every choice we’ll ever make. Grace teaches us to be unafraid in the myriad of life’s complexity. It equips us to stumble forward, learning to walk in faith, trusting the God who forgives.
Ritningin
About this Plan
In a moment, one choice can change everything. Who will my friends be? Which college or career will I pursue? What does God want for me? Where will I find the answers? In this plan, based on the book The Variable Life, John Weirick shares stories and insights to help you through the maze of change, choices, and complexities in modern life, without losing sight of God or yourself.
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