trapped in the past

By the grace of God, I rarely struggle with guilt anymore. The Spirit has allowed me to discern between the vice and holy conviction -- between the attack and a loving Father's rebuke. My enemy has had to restructure his troops to prevent me from moving forward, and it will continue to take on the same face until I live according to my freedom in Christ.

This perpetual thorn is regret. It often manifests itself as a cousin to guilt, without the hope for change. Whereas condemnation can be brought to light through His truth and a sound understanding of grace, regret holds our past hostage. We may know forgiveness in our past, but a present discontent can remind us of the events we would love to change.

Like many transient types, I find myself reflecting a lot, because the past can be a bridge to those I have loved and lost. Memories age entirely too well, and they tend to redefine themselves into better versions of the actual event. I glorify previous employment, without recognizing why I left. I glorify past music, without admitting how it gratified my flesh. I glorify past friends, at the risk of dismissing the loyalty of those that remain. I glorify past romance, while denying the years of pain it brought me.

I struggle with the idea that these stable communities eventually move on without me. I've been pastor to some, or barista to others; some have called me boss, and others friend. I have hundreds that have claimed me as their big brother. But their lives eventually move forward, or at least provide a stable satisfaction in the plateau.

I'm not sure how to handle my memories in a healthy manner, because I feel like I've been stripped of anything constant in the present. I don't say that to be hurtful to those that appreciate my services, but I readily accept that God will continue to weave me in and out of people's lives. Perhaps it is selfish to covet human comfort in spite of the cross I willingly bear, but I can't pretend to be something other than human. And God created mankind to desire the comfort of another. If I'm an exception because I've told God "yes" on occasion, then I need to know the fullness of His love, lest I obtain nothing of worth.

I welcome your prayers in my daily battle with regret. I cannot relive a conversation, take back a longing embrace, or undo my hurtful actions, but I can continually consecrate myself before a God that will never leave nor forsake me. In a life filled with passing yearbook photos, I need the reassurance that He has always been by my side.