Regret is an ugly word.
It’s a burden I drag around with me every day of my life. Decisions I’ve made. Choices I’ve followed. Words I’ve said.
Wounding. Painful. Destructive.
Regret is NOT Biblical. It is NOT Scriptural.
Repentance is. Repentance is called for by God. It is a path God has provided for us to find our way back to Him.
Regret builds walls, digs ditches, carves scars into the soft flesh of broken hearts.
Repentance builds bridges, fills holes, brings light and life where darkness and death seek refuge.
God urged me to write this post, knowing that admitting my regret for bad choices I’ve made, regret that haunts me when all is quiet and still is a chain that threatens to drag me down.
Last Friday, I spent the day bloody and bruised on the spiritual battlefield. It was a long hard day fraught with desperate prayers and heart wrenching cries to make me better, to help me stop, to help me let go of anger, to help me love and nurture and serve in the way He calls me to do.
And I regret my failure. I regret my failings. I regret my imperfection.
And it leaves me broken.
Regret is a self-inflicted curse, and I do not choose it. I choose repentance instead. I choose to repent when I am wrong, and not drag regret around with me.
Regret is a chain that seeks to pull me under; Repentance is the key to living fully.
I choose Repentance.