Oct 17, 2006 |
I should have … I could have … If only I would have …
How much time do you spend thinking about what might have been? This is a question that reminds me of a favorite country-western song. The lyrics include the phrases “I try not to think about what might have been, ’cause that was then … there’s no way to know what might have been.” Even though we know better, still we lament and often pine over what might have been.
Researchers on the subject of “regrets” have concluded the biggest secret regret is omission — not doing something you feel you should have done. In fact, researchers say we are often haunted by the inactions of our lives. The top four regrets stated by study participants are: not getting more education, career regrets, regrets in love, and not spending enough time with kids.
It seems harboring regret is not good for your health and reportedly leads to depression and even physical illness. A university study in the journal Psychology and Aging shows that older people who have less severe regrets have fewer health problems and sleep better at night, too.
Is there ever a time when regret is positive and helpful? Certainly the lessons that can come with regrets and the wisdom we glean can help us make changes so we don’t repeat mistakes or bad choices. The famous parable of the “prodigal son” told by Jesus and recorded in Luke 15:11-24 illustrates the usefulness of regret that leads to genuine repentance and opens the door to progress.
It was the story of two sons. The younger son asked his father to give him his inheritance. Soon this young son headed out on his own, but it didn’t take him long to waste everything he had been given and end up penniless. Because the son was barely surviving, he recognized and admitted the error of his ways and longed to return to his father. He wanted to tell his father that although he was no longer worthy to be called his son, he hoped his father would hire him as a servant. But the father gave his son’s remorseful remarks little heed. He loved his son unconditionally and wanted only to celebrate his son’s safe return home.
I would imagine that the father was probably also inwardly grateful to witness his son’s humble and penitent return but was not the type of father who would have belabored his son’s regret. There would have been no productive reason to do so. I’m learning that this is also true for how I treat myself.
Call it failed expectations or perhaps lost opportunities, looking back on my life lately, I’ve been struggling to overcome feelings of regret. When I shared these feelings with my husband, he asked me, “What would you have done differently?” The crazy thing is that I actually didn’t have an answer. It’s not that I would want to change any particular one thing in my life. I’ve loved every moment of my life to this day. I’ve just been overcome with sadness and disappointment that somehow I’ve missed doing something or it’s too late to do some things. And I’ve been reliving this sadness daily.
I’m beginning to see what the father of the prodigal son must have known, that rehashing regret serves no good purpose. I can see that regret interferes with happy, productive living and restricts motivation to move forward. I’m realizing if there is something I really want to do, that I can do it. Nothing is stopping me but my own inaction.
The fact is, God has always been working out His purpose in my life, and there is no reason for me to think that His plan is not going to continue for the remainder of my days. There isn’t an end to God’s direction or the goodness He provides, so I certainly don’t need to fear any such end just because I’ve reached the so-called middle age of my life. No doubt, we can’t even begin to imagine all the good that God has for us. As Paul says, “Eye hath not seen, not ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him” (1 Corinthians 2:9).
As always in my prayers, I’ve learned that I must begin with my view of God, and this view can help free me from any stifling feelings of needless regret. God is infinite good, and I am, as we all are, the expression of the Infinite. Everything God gives is also infinite. I guess I’ve been thinking of my experiences, or possibilities for experiences, as somehow finite, and yet God provides infinite possibilities for blessing our lives.
This is not a new lesson for me. I know I must change the view of myself from being limited or bewildered to what God is always knowing and seeing in me and for me. And I know this viewpoint will enable me to see the infinite possibilities that are indeed present now and in the future — possibilities that bring joy, fun, fulfillment, satisfaction and a sense of accomplishment. So, I’m putting “what might have been” behind me and focusing my gaze on what is yet to be — on what I shall do, what I can do, what I will do.
Oct 13, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
“Summertime, and the livin’ is easy.” I think that’s how the song begins. But it’s not so easy in summertime when one lives on a Texas ranch and it’s hay season.
My mama says she didn’t send me to college to end up driving a tractor. To get my hands dirty. But almost immediately upon the completion of my undergraduate degree, I married a Texas boy and began life on a cattle ranch.
Most of the time, I tell my friends my life is much like Eva Gabor on the U.S. 1960’s sitcom, “Green Acres.” I go shopping. I get monthly pedicures. I go to the hairdresser twice a month. And I get my acrylic nails put on and filled. This also requires two appointments each month. And I never, ever, ever drive a tractor without first putting on my lipstick.
Today was the first day of this year’s hay season. I admit this time of year is a love, sometimes hate, relationship. The long workdays and late night dinners are not much fun. But there is something about driving a tractor that I do enjoy. The smell of freshly cut grass is most pleasing. And I especially relish the broad view the hay fields provide as I move along.
The big horizon before my gaze reminds me how infinite life is. And whatever troubles have been burdening my heart begin to seem quite small in contrast.
Inevitably, the last stanza of a favorite hymn comes to mind:
“Green pastures are before me, Which yet I have not seen; Bright skies will soon be o’er me, Where darkest clouds have been. My hope I cannot measure, My path in life is free; My Father has my treasure, And He will walk with me.”
As I press on under the hot Texas sun and sing these words, my heart is filled with peaceful appreciation of the moment. I take a deep breath, wipe the sweat off my brow, and sing the words again. Then, I start to reflect on how attitudes and perceptions impact my life.
As I grew up, my mama always encouraged me to look for what is good in everything. And to be grateful. Time and again her advice proved to be right, and I learned how gratitude was a viewpoint from which my life could be observed, helping me to see what was there instead of what was not. Gratitude had the power to broaden my vision and to help me see options and prospects that were only obscured by a limited point of view.
My most vivid recent example of this came with the remodel of the little farmhouse where my husband and I have lived the past 25 years. It began as our starter house and grew into the home where we would raise our only child. Now, it has become the place where we may spend our retirement years.
For most of these years, I was ready to move out. Ready to build a new house. And consequently, I spent much of my time being unhappy about where I was and looking forward to something that might never be.
A friend, who is a talented artist with an interior decorator’s eye, was visiting one day and began pointing out various special and unique features she saw in our little farmhouse. She saw details I had never appreciated and valued before–mostly because I was consumed with focusing on what I didn’t like. My heart was so set on building a new house, I wasn’t even considering ideas on how to improve where I was.
A truly miraculous thing happened — something I didn’t expect, wasn’t looking for, and would never have imagined. My view of my little farmhouse changed. As my appreciation for it grew, I began to imagine ways to remodel. Very soon, the idea of building a new house was no longer even a consideration. I wanted to stay where I was. I was totally happy and satisfied where I was. Today, with the remodeling almost complete, I can’t imagine living anywhere else.
Once again, gratitude helped me to see present possibilities, and that new view changed my life.
My first day of driving the tractor this year was accomplished with me feeling quite satisfied with and proud of my hay loader skills. Those folks familiar with this type of work will appreciate my meaning when I say I didn’t miss any bales!
A thumbs up from my husband affirmed, “Good job!” And I was on my way to cook supper.
Summertime in Texas means many more days like today. But tomorrow’s not a hay baling day! I have my pedicure appointment!
Oct 13, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
My world was about to change. It was September 2001 and my only child was heading off to college. I had been anticipating this moment for the past year. Well, actually, I had been dreading it.
You have to understand. Jennifer is much more than my daughter. She is my shopping companion, my movie buddy, my confidant. She is my best friend.
I was teaching school before Jennifer was born. Then, I stopped teaching to be an at-home mom. When she started school, I went back to teaching at my daughter’s elementary school. In fact, I was her kindergarten teacher.
In Jennifer’s fifth-grade year we started home schooling and continued through high school. It was a good fit for our cattle-ranching lifestyle in Texas. And she and I loved learning together. Besides, it left us plenty of time to travel as a family, something I couldn’t even imagine doing without our daughter.
The time had finally arrived for me to let her go.
To be honest we had never been apart. Even when she went to summer camp, I went with her and volunteered.
But the day had come for her to begin her own life journey away at college. It was inevitable and I had to face it. The time had finally arrived for me to let her go—without going with her.
How can I describe those first days and weeks without her at home? Sleepless. Anxious. Worried. Fearful. Uneasy. Almost unbearable.
There wasn’t anything anyone said to me that helped, including my husband, who tried to comfort me but couldn’t. Yes, I knew what was right and normal for my child. I knew she couldn’t live at home forever. I didn’t want that for her. And yes, I knew it was normal to miss her. I admit I talked with her every day on the telephone. But nothing could stop how frantic I was. My imagination worked overtime, especially at night when trying to sleep. The anxieties I was feeling from being separated from her were creating a picture of a vulnerable young girl who was susceptible to chance, accident or even violence.
Jennifer was adjusting very well to college.
In the meantime, Jennifer was adjusting very well to college. She enjoyed her classes and made good grades. She was used to managing her time, studying on her own, had fast reading speed with good comprehension and she was a great writer. She had a nice boyfriend whom we liked. And she had become active in a student organization. In fact, it was her activity in this organization that brought my anxieties and fears to a head. She was soon to fly on a commercial airliner to Washington DC, and it was only 6 months after 9/11.
I had the habit of turning to spiritual ideas to help me solve problems. And honestly, I had begun praying and searching for peace of mind before her travel news. I had found my search for peace required moment-to-moment, thought-by-thought prayer in order to genuinely feel God’s presence.
For me, prayer begins with being still and listening. I like to continue by acknowledging the good about God and His children. In my study of Science and HealthI’ve discovered a God who is ever-present Love, constantly available and very comforting.
God is the perfect 24/7 Parent.
I began to see that God is the perfect 24/7 Parent, never off-duty—for me and for Jennifer. I also realized that everyone has a unique relationship with God, and their own purpose to fulfill.
And I wasn’t needed to provide this link for my daughter.
The idea that both Jennifer and I are on life journeys and that God has a purpose for us throughout our lives has been the ultimate freedom maker. When I finally accepted, believed and trusted this idea with all my heart, I became committed to not allowing any thought, fear or opinion interfere with God’s revelation for both of us.
The fruits of my prayer have been life changing.
Yes, Jennifer had a safe and fun trip to Washington DC. Her college years have been joyous and productive. She has completed her Bachelor of Arts degree in three years, and will graduate this summer, 2004. The nice boyfriend recently became our son-in-law, whom we love very much. She and I still talk every day and I look forward to hearing what’s new and wonderful on her life journey.
“I never felt guilty going away to college.”
And what about me? I can honestly say that fear and anxiety no longer rule my days and nights. My husband and I have been having great fun with evenings and weekends that are “just us.” We’ve enjoyed trips alone and have had wonderful excursions with friends. And there have been opportunities for travels that have included our daughter and son-in-law. I’m involved in community organizations and have also started a new career focus. My husband and I have started remodeling our house. And we’ve added a new member to our family—a miniature dachshund.
I recently had a conversation with Jennifer reflecting on her college years. In telling her about my experience in those first few months, I was delighted to learn she never suspected my struggle. She told me, “I never felt guilty going away to college. I never felt you were scared for me. I knew you were always going to support me. I never felt susceptible to risk or dangers. I never had any situations that made me afraid. I always felt safe.”
Yes, my world did change. But I’ve learned I don’t have to be afraid of change. Change is progress. Change means growth. Change provides expansive views. It’s kind of like the change from a caterpillar to a butterfly. Certainly, the life experience is different. But what a difference in the view!
Oct 13, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
I’m almost 50. Half a century. For 21 years of my life, I focused on raising my only child. Then she graduated from college, married and moved to another state. Some people experience mid-life crises at this stage of life—I know I started thinking things I’d never thought about before.
I began to wonder how much time I had left to spend with my own mother. I began to think about the death of loved ones and even my own demise. I thought about all the dreams I let fade away.
Then I heard a song that got me thinking in a new way.
Live “like tomorrow was a gift”.
If you’re a country music fan like I am, you’ve no doubt heard Tim McGraw’s hit song, “Live like you were dying.” The song encourages listeners to live “like tomorrow was a gift” and make the most out of the present.
The song asks, “You got eternity to think about what you do with it—What should you do with it?”
This question really caught my attention. So as the song mentions, I “read the Good Book”—yes, the Bible. And other good books too, as I began to ponder the idea of eternity and life.
In reading the weekly Bible Lesson one morning, some statements from Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures reminded me of Tim’s song. I read, “Life is eternal. We should find this out, and begin the demonstration thereof. Life and goodness are immortal. Let us then shape our views of existence into loveliness, freshness, and continuity, rather than into age and blight.”
What would I do with eternity?
I thought again about the question in the song. What would I do with eternity? And I found myself responding, “live like Life’s eternal.”
I started to think about that. How would it change my days, to live knowing Life is eternal?
Considering this idea is transforming my experience day by day. I’m starting to understand what Eddy meant about shaping our views of existence by a life that is eternal, by a life that affirms God as Life itself.
I feel I’ve found my answer. Pondering eternity is wiping out my fears, erasing limitations and bringing more joy and peace to each moment.
I’m a much better listener these days.
I’m not letting the clock and calendar be my focus anymore. I’m making the most of moments with loved ones, and moments by myself. I’m a much better listener these days when friends and family call—and it seems as though I get more calls than I used to.
And you know what? As the songs says, I have gone Rocky Mountain climbing, and fishing, too. My husband and I have taken trips on the spur of the moment. I’ve been spending more time with my mother—going to movies together, swimming or just hanging out.
I have new hobbies. I feel I’m at a beginning that never ends. And the possibilities are infinite for what I might do next. (Perhaps bull riding? Well, maybe not.)
There is no “middle” to eternity. Yep, I’m singing a new song now: “Live like Life’s eternal.” And that’s exactly how it feels.
