Broken Moments We Can’t Forget

Have you ever had one of those moments when you’re ready to tap out? Maybe it comes after a diagnosis, heartbreak or a regret. In that moment, you may feel depleted, worn down, or let’s just say it—broken. Many times, our brokenness originates within a broken belief. We bought a lie straight from the enemy’s playbook, and with it, He robbed us.

If we take the Bible at its word, it says the dominion of the world is infiltrated with the enemy’s tactics. When the enemy came to steal, kill, and destroy the promises God had written over my life, I failed to see his subtle attacks. See, I knew God’s Word, and I knew His plans for me were good. But I inclined my ear to what the world was saying more than I meditated on what God had said.

Whenever you break a promise, cross a line, or let yourself or someone else down, regret will take the empty seat hope once occupied. It doesn’t care if it’s welcome or not; regret just makes itself at home in your moment of distress. When all feels heavy or lost, we have a choice in how we respond: fight or flight.

Flight looks like avoidance, blame, wallowing, rebellion, or withdrawal. Fighting, however, looks like acknowledging, uncovering, struggling, growing, and healing. Fighting means coming to terms with our faults and mistakes, releasing regret through repentance, and beginning a new hope journey.

When I think back to how I stumbled, I’m grateful for a God who saves. At no point in my brokenness was God’s Word broken. “If we are faithless, He remains faithful [true to His word and His righteous character], for He cannot deny Himself” (2 Tim. 2:13). I was able to regain hope once repentance released my regret, because all along hope was not lost; it was simply out of view.

I can only imagine how much it hurt God’s heart to see me go down paths I was never meant to travel. Paths He knew would bring me pain while He wanted to lead me to a purposeful future. Part of God’s sovereign splendor is that though He makes a clear path for us, He’s never thrown off when we take a wrong turn.

Like the prodigal son in Luke 15, He meets the return of His beloved with open arms. Though we are aware of our faults and proclaim we are no longer worthy to be His, He celebrates our homecoming by lavishing grace on us and dressing us in honor. Our Father doesn’t keep us at arm’s length, He wraps us completely in a warm embrace.

What purpose does holding on to regret, shame, or failure serve you? Will you let go of those moments that hold you back so you can run to Him with arms opened wide?