Wistful Regrets

 Several years ago, I created a website called Wistful Regrets. The idea behind it was simple: When we were children, each of us had dreams about what we would become and what we would accomplish.

We dreamed of traveling to distant places, doing something important, and perhaps even changing the world. We made promises to ourselves about the kind of person we would become. Then, almost before we knew what had happened, we were forty years old with a spouse, children, a mortgage, and responsibilities that did not leave much room for childhood dreams.

Life has a way of changing our plans.

Some dreams were postponed. Others were abandoned. Opportunities came and went while we were busy making a living, raising a family, and trying to survive. When we finally slowed down long enough to look back, we discovered that some doors had closed and would never open again.

That is when the wistful regrets begin.

A Late-Night Confession

I set up that website around one o’clock in the morning. That is a dangerous time for an old man to become philosophical. It is an hour for casual introspection, quiet memories, and shallow confessions made only to oneself.

As I sat there thinking about my life, I was startled to hear myself say, “I don’t have any regrets.”

No regrets? Surely that could not be true.

My life has not been uneventful. I have experienced failure, betrayed trust, disappointed expectations, public embarrassment, missed opportunities, and more than my share of foolish blunders. My wife could tell you about some of my experiences with investments in silver and milk—but those are stories for another day.

Don’t those things count as regrets?

After thinking about it long and hard, I realized that I certainly regret some of the things I have done. I also regret some of the things I failed to do. If I could live through certain moments again, I would like to believe I would make better decisions.

But I do not carry those regrets around like giant boulders with the word “REGRET” carved into them. You have seen those polished stones in garden stores engraved with words such as Peace, Tranquility, Hope, and Love, as though carving a word into a rock somehow makes it more meaningful.

My regrets are not carved in stone.

They are experiences from which I have tried to learn. They are chapters in my story, but they are not the title of my life. They are part of my past, but through the grace of God, they do not control my future.

The apostle Paul wrote:

“Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before,
I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.”
—Philippians 3:13–14, KJV

Paul had a past he could never change. Before meeting Christ, he persecuted believers and helped destroy Christian families. He could have spent the rest of his life chained to regret. Instead, he allowed the grace of God to transform his regret into a reason to serve Christ more faithfully.

The Boulders We Carry

I wish I knew how to give others the gift of laying down their regrets.

Those giant boulders of regret probably hold more people back, limit more creative energy, destroy more faith, and steal more joy than a lack of money or opportunity ever could.

Some people carry the memory of a failed marriage. Others carry regret over words spoken in anger. Some regret not spending more time with their children. Others regret the years they wasted away from God. They replay their failures again and again, imagining that continued suffering will somehow change what happened.

But punishing yourself will not rewrite yesterday.

Regret can become a teacher, but it was never meant to become your master. It should lead us to repentance, not hopelessness. There is an important difference between the conviction of the Holy Spirit and the condemnation of the enemy.

The Holy Spirit points out our sin so that we may confess it, receive forgiveness, and walk in a better direction. Condemnation continually reminds us of our failures while telling us there is no hope of being restored.

The Bible gives this wonderful promise:

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
—1 John 1:9, KJV

When God forgives us, we must stop trying to pay a debt that Jesus Christ has already paid. The Lord does not intend for us to spend the rest of our lives sitting beside the grave of yesterday.

David prayed:

“Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.”
—Psalm 51:10, KJV

David could not undo his sin, but he could be forgiven, restored, and changed. That is what grace does. Grace does not pretend that the sin never happened. Grace declares that our failures do not have to be the final word.

Has Experience Made Me Wiser?

I would like to believe that my accumulation of experiences—regretful and otherwise—has made me wiser. However, I do not have much evidence that this is true. I only have definite proof that accumulated experience has made me older.

Age does not automatically produce wisdom. Some people simply make the same mistakes for a longer period of time.

The Bible says:

“The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteousness.”
—Proverbs 16:31, KJV

Notice that little word if. Gray hair may show that we have lived many years, but it does not necessarily mean we have learned from them. Wisdom comes when we allow God to teach us through our experiences.

With age has come a deeper understanding of regret and its proper place in my life. Regret now occupies a quieter and more reflective corner of my heart. It no longer shouts accusations at me. Instead, it occasionally hands me a lesson—a gift of possibility for whatever time remains.

I cannot change what I did yesterday, but I can decide what I will do today.

Aging Gracefully

I often tell my wife that I want to grow old with her. I once thought the goal was to “age gracefully.” But the older I become, the more convinced I am that aging gracefully may be a myth invented by cosmetic salesmen, fitness advertisers, and mega-vitamin pushers.

What does “aging gracefully” really mean?

Like military intelligence, airline food, soft rock, California culture, and sanitary landfill, it may be one of those expressions that sounds better than it works.

By the time you reach sixty—or seventy—or eighty—it ought to be time to kiss some vanity goodbye. One of the few privileges of old age is that you do not have to worry quite as much about what everyone else thinks of you, your looks, or your actions.

I am not saying that we should stop taking care of ourselves. Our bodies belong to God, and we should be good stewards of them. But there comes a time when we must accept that wrinkles, gray hair, slower steps, and aching joints are reminders that we are traveling through a temporary world.

The Bible reminds us:

“For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away.”
—1 Peter 1:24, KJV

Aging gracefully does not mean pretending we are still thirty. It means accepting each season of life with faith, gratitude, and a growing dependence upon God. It means allowing the outward man to grow weaker while the inward man grows stronger.

“For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.”
—2 Corinthians 4:16, KJV

That is biblical aging. The body slows down, but the soul draws nearer to home.

Becoming an Old Geezer

My grandfather would have called me an “old geezer.” One of the greatest gifts of reaching that stage is finally becoming comfortable with the person you are—without mirrors, pretense, or apology.

For the first time in many years, you can begin to embrace who God created you to be.

I sometimes look at the younger generation with their green and orange hair, unusual clothes, tattoos, and multiple piercings and wonder how the world became so strange. Then I remember that our generation was not nearly as normal as we now pretend it was.

We had our own clothing, hairstyles, music, attitudes, and foolish ideas. We thought our parents were hopelessly old-fashioned. Then we married, raised children, found jobs, paid taxes, and slowly started sounding like our parents.

Along came a spouse, and we learned to bend and compromise. My wife did an excellent job of changing me—and no doubt she would say that the project remains unfinished.

Our jobs also demanded conformity. We learned how to dress, what to say, when to speak, and when to remain silent. We adjusted ourselves to meet the expectations of employers, churches, families, and communities. In the process, some of our individuality was polished away.

What amazes me is that we managed to keep as much of ourselves intact as we did.

Now, suddenly, we are getting old—or, in the case of some of us, we have already arrived. We have another opportunity to discover who we really are.

But there is something even more important than simply “being yourself.” We should seek to become the person God created us to be.

The world tells us to follow our hearts, but the Bible warns:

“The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?”
—Jeremiah 17:9, KJV

The answer is not merely to be true to ourselves. The answer is to surrender ourselves to God.

“I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.”
—Romans 12:1, KJV

Real freedom is not found in doing whatever we please. It is found in becoming what God intended us to be.

The Regrets That Matter Most

Life is short and fleeting. When we look back, what truly matters?

What do you think about late at night when sleep will not come? Do you think about the money you did not make, the promotion you did not receive, or the house you never owned? Or do your thoughts turn toward the people you loved, the words you should have spoken, and the opportunities you missed to serve God?

As I grow older, my deepest regrets are spiritual.

Could I have prayed more?

Could I have loved people more faithfully?

Could I have forgiven more quickly?

Could I have spent more time with my family?

Could I have shared the Gospel with someone who needed to hear it?

Could I have listened more carefully when the Lord was speaking?

Could I have trusted God instead of worrying?

Could I have done more with the opportunities He placed before me?

We often regret the dreams we did not follow, but perhaps the greater tragedy is failing to discover God’s dream for our lives. God had so much for us, yet we sometimes missed His opportunities because we were busy becoming what other people wanted us to be.

We allowed fear to shape our decisions. We wanted the approval of family, friends, employers, and neighbors. We worried about what people would think. We became so busy fitting into the world that we sometimes forgot we had been called to follow Christ.

Jesus asked:

“For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?”
—Mark 8:36, KJV

The world may call a man successful while heaven calls him unfaithful. Another man may be nearly unknown, possess very little, and never receive public recognition, yet hear the Lord say:

“Well done, thou good and faithful servant.”
—Matthew 25:21, KJV

When life is over, that is the approval that will matter.

It Is Not Too Late

Perhaps you are reading this while carrying a heavy burden of regret. You may believe that too much time has passed and too many opportunities have been lost.

You cannot return to yesterday, but you can give today to God.

Moses was eighty years old when God called him to lead Israel out of Egypt. Caleb was eighty-five when he asked for his mountain. Anna served God faithfully in her old age. John received the Revelation near the end of his life.

As long as God gives us breath, He still has a purpose for us.

“So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.”
—Psalm 90:12, KJV

You may not be able to accomplish everything you once dreamed of doing. Your body may be weaker, your opportunities may be different, and some doors may be permanently closed. But you can still pray. You can still encourage someone. You can still forgive. You can still testify of the goodness of God. You can still tell someone about Jesus.

You can still be faithful.

The Secret to Fewer Regrets

If there is a secret to living with fewer regrets, it is this: Surrender your will to the will of God.

Solomon wrote:

“Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.
In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”
—Proverbs 3:5–6, KJV

Living for the Lord does not guarantee that we will never make mistakes. It does not mean that every dream will come true or that life will unfold exactly as we planned. But it means that even our disappointments can be placed in God’s hands.

The Lord can redeem wasted years. He can bring wisdom out of failure, compassion out of suffering, and ministry out of pain. He can take the broken pieces of our lives and use them for His glory.

“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”
—Romans 8:28, KJV

Not everything that happens is good, but God can work through everything surrendered to Him.

I have regrets, but I refuse to let regret become the stone marker over my life. My failures have been many, but the grace of God has been greater. My opportunities may be fewer than they once were, but every remaining day still belongs to the Lord.

I cannot change yesterday. I do not know how many tomorrows remain. But I can give God today.

When the road behind you is longer than the road ahead, you begin to understand what matters. It is not how young you looked, how much money you accumulated, or how many people knew your name. What matters is whether you loved God, loved others, remained faithful, and finished the course He gave you.

So lay down the boulders of regret. Learn from the past, but do not live there. Ask forgiveness where forgiveness is needed. Make peace where peace can still be made. Tell your family that you love them. Do the good that remains within your power to do.

Above all, surrender your life completely to Jesus Christ.

Live each remaining day unto the Lord, and when the evening shadows begin to fall, you will find that grace has replaced many of your wistful regrets.

“For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.”
—Philippians 1:21, KJV