Pride and Effect

They say that hindsight is 20/20. I wish hindsight was blind. Until recently, my life was a clenched fist. A tightly-corseted body of vague Victorian ideals and legalistic notions of propriety. I didn't want to look back on a life of foolish regrets, so I set rules for myself and strove shamelessly to please and perform. I scrimped and restrained in the name of self-righteousness, but sometimes in the process of avoiding regrets, we miss life.

Recently my fists have started to loosen. Little by little, the circulation returning to palms scarred from years of clenching. I've discovered that it's not a sin to say "yes," and that people are more important than to-do lists. I've learned that life is not meant to be shackled or laced to fulfill  pharisaic pride, but to run unbridled in the paths of the Master's command (Psalm 119:32).

Regrets bite the hardest, and lost opportunities can be the most painful.
I wish I had said "yes" when my brothers invited instead of staying at home...
I wish I had spoken to that stranger...
I wish I had tarried to speak truth into a friend's life instead of hurrying past, caught up in my own busy schedule...
I wish I had plunged into the water instead of simpering on the shore...
I wish I had fellowshipped rather than excusing myself under the pretext of unfinished homework...
The regret list is endless.

Jesus was never too busy for the needy and broken; He was never too pious or proper to dine with the outcasts. He lived a life of no regrets, and through His forgiveness for lost opportunities and a fresh chance-filled future, so can I.