
Regret - that feeling of sorrow linked to past choices. Regret is a burden that every grown up human being carries. It’s weight is felt in grief, in anguish, in remorsefulness, or even shame. To me, one of the most significant things about regret is that it is a burden that we put upon ourselves. Even when regret is linked to a choice that we made that was the right choice - the truly loving or kind or protective or responsible choice in that moment, we still often pummel ourselves in the aftermath of that choice.
A friend of mine was looking at an old photo from summers ago. Six sun-tanned happy kids are in the photo, five of them sticky with ice cream treats. The youngest kid in the photo was my friend’s two year old adoptive daughter who had passed away due to medical issues, a few months following the day the picture was taken. One of her daughter’s conditions on a long list of medical diagnoses was Type 1 Diabetes.
My friend texted , “This photo makes me happy and sad. Why couldn’t I have let her have some ice cream. I was so new to caring for her and wanted to do everything perfect. I should have let her have the ice cream.”
I quickly replied, “But remember (she had been happily snacking on baby carrots, at the time), she loved those carrots like they were ice cream! You were doing the thing you believed was best. You were such a good mama to her!”
She said, “I know, but look at her. She’s signing please (in the photo) But thank you for that reminder. She had only been with us a month or so...”
“It was like having a brand new baby for the first time, wasn’t it?” I asked.
“Absolutely! I would have done that differently with the knowledge I have now. But she got my best either way,” she replied.
“ He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us... Even when we are weighed down with troubles, it is for your comfort and salvation! For when we ourselves are comforted, we will certainly comfort you. Then you can patiently endure the same things we suffer. We are confident that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in the comfort God gives us.
-2 Corinthians 1:4, 6-7
I know that my friend voiced her regret specifically to me not only because I had been present the day of that photo, but also because she believed that as a foster/adoptive mom myself, I would understand the burden of her regret. And she was right - I am very familiar with the wistful feeling regret can weigh in as. As a parent, making decisions from a place of loving boundaries can sometimes seem so impossibly hard. I occasionally look back and find my parenting choices regrettable even though they were the right choices - the actual best choices in those moments. Viewing my past through the lens of heartbreak or of greater knowledge is always going to be painful I think. It’s a situation in which I know that I need to forgive myself and have the grace to look behind my imperfections. I guess that’s the point of grace - of being able to not only accept it as a gift from God, but also learning to accept it from myself. I struggle with this often, especially as a parent... even more so with my adopted kids, where I have had to parent blindly sometimes. Circumstances have forced me to do the best I could, even though later I sometimes realized my best in the past was lacking in the light of the present.
Regret is a universal burden in any relationship, really. A few days ago would have marked my 27th wedding anniversary, had I not gotten a divorce in this past year. Divorce is a situation riddled with regret, and the burden of that regret is carried by each person in a family - no matter where the blame lays. On my former wedding anniversary day, I realized that a sacred day had now been transformed into a mourning day - the mourning of the hope that had once been woven through even the dysfunctional parts of my marriage. I looked around myself and I saw that my family is broken, the hearts of my children are broken, the rhythm of our lives is broken. I looked beside myself and saw the path beside me is broken - that my present ability to maintain any but my most immediate relationships is broken. I looked inside myself and saw that my desire to trust is broken, that the thoughts in my head are broken, that my desire to speak is broken... that my heart is broken.
The trauma of a broken marriage is painted with regret. The relics of my heart are the only pieces that remain of my vows. Those pieces are strewn about, splintered and worn. My marriage was beaten down, destroyed, and abandoned - but still, these pieces of me remain. My heart has become burdened with the questions regret asks - what did I do wrong, what should I have done differently, why did I say this or choose that? Regret weighs heavy, even when the choice that strains the remaining threads of a relationship is not ones own.
“Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”
-Matthew 11:28-30 NLT
Regret is a ponderous burden. God tells me in the Bible to bring my burdens to him. I think when I consciously do that, I find some comfort in knowing that God understands my regret, how I feel underneath its weight. Maybe that’s the “rest” Jesus talked about... that knowing God is gentle and understanding of my inadequacy. Maybe the “rest” is that bringing my regret to him is not going to result in his judgement of guilt, but in his gift of grace. Maybe the “rest” I am promised is the realization that this lifetime does not end in regret, but in restoration. Maybe that hope is the “rest” I can lean into from regret.
Regret is not easy to talk about - it’s very nature is that it is brought about by something we wish did not exist. But I know there is healing to be had in carrying regret to the appropriate place - to not use it to condemn ourselves, but to give ourselves hope. Hope shows me a mother greeting her daughter again one day with a joyful hug and an ice cream cone. Hope finds me when my daughter paints a picture with a quote from her favorite movie written on the bottom that says, “This is my family. It's little, and broken, but still good.” Hope tells me that today’s regret does not cancel out yesterday’s joys or tomorrow’s possibilities.
“Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him.”
-Psalm 62:5 NIV
