Don't forget it. Regret it.

REGRET. 

n. a feeling of sadness, repentance, or disappointment over something that has happened or been done.

Ugly word. 

Sad word.

Bad word. 

I can't tell you how many times I've been told something to the effect of "Everything you've done has molded you, shaped you, made you into the person you've become. Never regret anything."

See? You can find one thousand just like these all over Google images:

Adorable, catchy, simple, cute... but true?

Mostly good advice. Mostly...

Lately I've been in some deep philosophical conversations with myself (and a couple times with a dear friend) about the topic at hand, and, to put it intelligently, I call bullcrap. 

Everyone has regrets.

Regret (the concept, not actual regrets that I carry) has been weighing heavily on my mind as of late. 

It's looked upon as such an ugly and negative word. 

It evokes feelings of sadness and doom. 

And so, we're told not to do it.

"Don't regret anything. Everything you've done has made you who you are today."

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In one of the more humiliating confessions of my life, I decide - after one glass of wine - to tell you that I was arrested for shoplifting when I was 18 years old. Shoplifting.
Clothing.
From JCPenny. 

I was supposed to be headed to Padre or something for Spring Break with some college girlfriends, and instead I decided to be a moron and push the limits of the law.
I have NO IDEA why I did that. 

It causes me great humiliation when I think about it. 

I didn't need the shirts I decided I'd take.
I even had money in my wallet.
But I did it.
And I got caught.
And arrested. 

And... to this day, I can tell you with great certainty that I REGRET THAT. 

I do not sit up at night and weep about it. 

I don't roll myself into a ball and rock in the corner of a dark room.

I rarely even think about it. 

But when I do, I regret it. 

The regret is there not to hold me down, to imprison me, or to inhibit me from having a good and happy and full life. It is there to do just the opposite.
It is there to free me from temptation. It is there to serve as a painful sting any time I even consider pushing the limits of the law. 

It is there to serve as a reminder.

"Jessica. Don't do anything stupid. Remember that time you tried to steal $50 worth of t-shirts, and ended up in a metal cell with a crack-head named Muffin? Remember when the policeman that arrested you from the mall knew your dad and then lectured you on what an embarrassment you were to your family's name all the way to the jail? Oh, and then that other officer that booked you and asked if you were the Deacon's daughter, then shook his head and said "Good preacher. Good man. Shameful. Right thumb."? 

Remember those things, stupid. 

And REGRET how STUPID you were. 

Use that regret to fuel you to never do anything that stupid again. 

Don't speed. Wear your seat belt. Don't jaywalk. 

(You might think I'm going overboard with the jaywalking thing, but spend one night in that filthy and cold place, where prostitutes are brought in and booked as "regulars", and Muffin awakes from a crack nap only to ask you if you're going to eat your grits. THEN tell me that I'm a pansy for never wanting to end up there again.)

You'd better BELIEVE I regret it! 

Not just the "getting caught" part.
I regret it because it was wrong. And cheap. And dishonest.
And because my dishonesty has threatened jobs I've had in the past.
And because I am the last person I'd ever consider to be a thief, but my background check shows different.
And because it was a weak character flaw and youthful and pathetic "push the envelope" move. 

It did not make me who I am today. It did not mold me. It made things difficult and embarrassing for me and my family. And if I could take it back, I would.

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In the interest of being terribly candid, lets see... what else do I regret? 

I never regret placing my son for adoption. Never. Not one single time.
But I regret very much that I ever put myself in the position to have to make such a difficult and life-changing decision.
My little shoulder devil says "Don't regret that."
Then my little shoulder angel says "Use that regret as fuel. Teach your children not to put themselves in the position to ever have to make a decision so hard. Tell them about your regret, why it's there and what put it there, and make sure they know that it is avoidable." 

The regret of that part of my life does not sting anymore. It does not pull me down. It does not even hurt.
It drives me. To DO something, to prevent someone else from being pregnant and scared, to provide information and experience. 

I regret that I didn't visit my friend the last couple times I was in Austin, and now suddenly she's gone.
This regret is the freshest, and currently still painful, and one of the main forces behind this post.
I know that we never know the last time we'll see or talk to someone. I know that I was really busy, and I was only there for one night, maybe two. It was a family vacation, it was a quick trip, blah blah blah. I have one thousand justifications.
And ten thousand tears of regret.

This particular regret is one that will sting for some time to come, but it will also build me to love more, to slow down, to take the time to send cards and make phone calls. The regret I feel about neglecting my friend is one that will drive me to ensure I don't make that mistake again.

I regret dropping out of college a gillion times before finishing,
outfit choices (yeah, why no one told me I looked like barney in floral pants is beyond me, but at least I know I'll never wear that again),
boyfriends (I had a couple doooozies, who in no shape or form made me a better or wiser person - and whose influence only prodded strings of more regret),
the way I treated some of the Freshman girls in High School,
some stupid decisions I made in my early 20s, 
blowing my credit as a teen.
some (lots) of the things I've said to my precious husband and children in a hormonal frenzie. 

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I believe whole-heartedly that, had I never done some of the stupid things I'd done, I'd have wound up pretty much the same person, only lived a bit easier, and a bit better. I'd still be creative and occasionally witty. I would still have a beautiful family. I'd still have a degree, have less-than-flattering freak-outs when I can't find something to wear, have friends, I would still have a past full of fun memories... 

I'd only have a lot less scars.

Now, don't get me wrong. I don't hate that I'm scarred, and on the other side I don't wish regret on anyone. I simply believe it is necessary for every person, at some point in his life, to examine his regrets and share them so that maybe, someday, someone somewhere can avoid living with the same "should'a, would'a, could'a."

I will never look my children in the eye and lie to them, saying "I don't regret a thing."  

Can't you see it?

Mom: "I don't regret a single thing, kiddo."

Kid: "Oh, really, Mom? You don't regret not having the money to put me through college because you blew your life savings on a face lift and a yacht?"

Mom: "No, honey, I don't. I don't regret that, because my decisions made me who I am today. And your $40,000 student loan debt made YOU who YOU are today!" 

Of course, my conversation would be quite different (mostly because at this point my life savings could only buy the yacht, and I don't want a face lift).

I hope I have the guts to give it to my kids, fo' real.

They will know that I made mistakes, and that I did things that I wish I had never done. 

They will know that I forgave myself, and healed from those mistakes, but that many of them were long, gruleing, hurtful healing processes - and that the healing was only possible through my relationship with God.

They will know that some choices I made would, for years to come, riddle me with embarrassment or pain. 

They will know that there is no molding or shaping that some decisions bring, but only scars.
They will know how important it is to hold your tongue, and never say something you don't mean. 

They will know that the worst kind of regret is when you inflict pain on someone else's heart.

They will know that you MUST learn from your mistakes. But you also MUST regret the bad ones. 

They will know that, in order to not repeat the past, you have to remember that parts of it STUNG.

I am not proud of many parts of my past.
But I'm also not afflicted by them.

God has given me healing, and His Grace has given me the power to turn my regret into something that drives me to do better and love harder and forgive and forget and warn my children about the dangers that stupid decisions bring. 

I don't regret every stupid thing I've ever done. Lots of those stupid things were innocent and fun, or even not-so-innocent, and not-so-fun. But gosh, if I regretted everything stupid I've done... I'd never have a spare second to laugh. :) Haha! 

Hahaha! See?

And so, here is my long-winded lesson.

Live life to serve, to love, to dance, to be joyful, to get to Heaven, to get those around you to Heaven. Give thanks at the end of each day. Forgive - others, and yourself.

And when you screw up a little, look back and say "dang, that was stupid."

And when you screw up a LOT, regret it. Forgive yourself. Ask for forgiveness. Get over it, and regret that you were ever so stupid. 

Never allow it to depress you, to weaken you, to lessen you. But instead, let it prod you, mold you, push you toward greatness in the future. Use it to nourish and strengthen your character and deepen your relationships, making you a better spouse, parent, sibling, child. 


When it comes to regret, don't lose it. Use it.
If you don't regret it, you'll forget it. And some things should not be forgotten! (Others should. Go ahead and just forget those ones...)

In the most wise words of Henry David Thoreau, "Make the most of your regrets; never smother your sorrow, but tend and cherish it till it comes to have a separate and integral interest. To regret deeply is to live afresh." 

Peace,  and may your regrets of yesterday be your life afresh tomorrow!
J