The Strength of Regret

I wonder if Adam and Eve felt regret.

They basked in the innocence of their trust in God...and forfeited it.

They failed to audit the persuasion of the enemy.

We repeat this cycle every time we usher in regret through our words and actions, failing to audit whatever is persuading us to work against God.

Where is the strength in that?

In 2 Corinthians 7:10, Paul is encouraging the Corinthians to pull away from everything that defiles or distracts from a life pursuing God:

Distress that drives us to God...turns us around. It gets us back in the way of salvation. We never regret that kind of pain. But those who let distress drive them away from God are full of regrets...

Isn't Paul saying that if our wrong words and actions--our deepest regrets--drive us to God and turn our hearts back to Him, we won't regret the pain we've suffered from our decisions?

That is a huge thought. How can that be?

I think back over one of my deepest, unnamed regrets. I have sought reconciliation with God many times over. These years later, I see the strength in the journey.

Somehow, in those many moments crying out to God, He held me in the power of forgiveness. It has strengthened my resolve to never go that way again.

Only God could create strength from regret.

Harried, Hurried, Hoarded

Are you one (or more) of these?

Harried: too many entities vying for your attention and you are sliced and diced too thinly.

Hurried: saying to yourself and others more than a few times a day, "Hurry up!"

Hoarded: when more than one area of your house, car or office is stuffed to the gills with items suitable for discard, and you with no will or energy to streamline and throw away.

I have spent years in the presence of each.

I tried to juggle work, having babies, rearing kids and graduate school--definitely harried.

I rushed my children around so they would have all these incredible opportunities--definitely hurried.

Clutter owned me, and I was so harried and hurried that I had no will to wade through and discard. Today my hoard piles have been reduced but they still exist, and grow back easily when I am not vigilant--I remain a bit hoarded.

If you learn from others' experiences, then I would offer this:

Pare down what you are trying to accomplish. One hundred years from now, you might wonder why you chose harried over delighted.

If you address harried, you will likely be able to reduce hurried. Believe me, your children might not remember their incredible opportunities as much as they remember your aggravation from all that hurried. 

Everything you hoard owns you. The crazy thing is that once you throw it away, you don't even miss it--and that ownership you forfeited comes right back to you in a most delightful freedom.

In oh, so many ways I didn't do it right. But I can cheer for you and your family to experience a new level of freedom and delight.

Consider this mission of strength.

When Addiction Lane Surprises Us

I think God, in His gently prying way, would surprise us if we asked Him this question:

To what am I addicted?

To me, He might say:

Debi, you are addicted to your cocoon of quiet safety that you built to escape hurt. The day will come when I invite you back out into the world in a stronger way, risking more hurt and vulnerability. Will you trust Me?

To another, He might say:

My child, you are addicted to your delivery of all things "right" when I care more about all things "love." The day will come when I invite you to love first and analyze later, if at all. It will be hard to turn off your analysis and only express love. Will you trust Me?

And to yet another:

My child, you are addicted to seeing yourself as less than what I made you to be. I crafted you Myself and you are a wonder, indeed. The day will come when you have an opportunity to look at yourself through eyes that see what I was all about when you were on my drawing board, but it will be hard to discard your habit of beating yourself up. Will you trust Me?

When we are far down addiction lane, perhaps unknowingly, yet as destructively as with any more recognizable addiction, we can make a comeback, one step at a time. God will gently chisel us out if we let Him.

If you feel a nudge to ask the question, know that behind it lies the path to freedom.

We can all escape Addiction Lane.

Before I Sought Wisdom

Why didn't someone tell me about wisdom, before I got all the way to twenty-something?

Ecclesiastes 8:1:

Wisdom puts light in the eyes and gives gentleness to words and manners.

I was a young married in the midst of student teaching in a K-2 classroom. One evening, I opened our kitchen cabinet to find a bag of Chips Ahoy cookies wide open. I marched (yes, sorry to say I marched) into the den and said to my husband, "Is this the way we close our cookies?"

A zealous dose of whatever we are about is simply...offensive.

The verse says wisdom puts light in our eyes and gives gentleness to our words and manners.

That day I could have used a healthy dose of all of that.

I have come a long way. The journey has been one of letting go. I should have valued my husband over the cookies and never said a word. Love covers a multitude of offenses.

I think we are never right until we are gentle, mannerly, and loving. I don't think right matters first in God's eyes when we are dealing with each other.

It appears wisdom engenders the gentleness that is our path to sharing anything we need to say.

Wisdom Ahoy.

"Don't Be Like the Rest of Them, Darling"

This hangs on my kitchen wall, a gallery print from my daughter's collection at KATIE KIME.

I suppose "them" is different for each of us.

For me, "them" is the habit of being quick to condemn. This quote recently got my attention:

The highest form of ignorance is to reject something you know nothing about.

How many times have I been there?

For me, "them" is being afraid of failing, or worse, of succeeding--that is, living just under the radar of being all I can be. Here it is from the movie, Finding Forrester:

We walk away from our dreams afraid that we may fail, or worse yet, afraid we may succeed.

Sometimes I think I have lived my whole life just under that radar. It's a scary thought.

Don't be like the rest of them, darling. God essentially says the same thing:

Set yourself apart from the world by covering an offense with love, forgiving without counting the cost, pursuing the Author of love that you can't see but can choose to believe, focusing on the next life and being only a sojourner in this one.

Thanks, Katie. Awesome reminder.

Do Pause and Momentum Fit Together?

In last night's Super Bowl XLVII, a power outage in the New Orleans Superdome created a 34-minute game delay. As my husband predicted, the momentum shifted from the Baltimore Ravens to the San Francisco 49ers. The nail-biter ended with a Ravens win, but the shift was unmistakable, with the power story certainly one for the record books.

For some reason, it gave me pause for thought.

How many times does pause precede momentum that proceeds in a new--and more powerful--direction?

Entrepreneurs have chalked up hundreds of stories where temporary failure, and thus pause, set the stage for an even better launch.

This morning, I read the story of Shari Fitzpatrick, highly successful founder of Shari's Berries, Inc., suddenly on pause in a compelling tale of heartache and loss of her long-standing business. Yet, she knows her comeback is in the offing and you can almost feel the momentum in her positive view.

Is there an inspiration behind this sequence of pause and momentum, where something greater comes out of the next phase?

Jesus lived thirty-three years, presenting Himself repeatedly through healing miracles and dramatic teaching.

Yet a three-day pause in His transition from death on the cross to resurrection, in a seeming power outage, launched the Person of Jesus into the Spirit of Jesus.

A pause and momentum that changed the course of history, and remaining, for the record books, the greatest story ever.

(Photographer: Doug Mills, The New York Times)