“Someone is going to die, and someone is going to get pregnant, and you are all going to regret it.” -Aubri O’Brien (circa 1997)

Words and moments I am not proud of tend to play over and over again in my mind like scenes from a movie I just can’t unwatch. Sometimes it’s things I wish I would have said or done but didn’t. Sometimes it’s things I wish I could undo or unsay. I have so many moments in my life like this; they date back to when I was two. I know that seems odd, and some of them are likely told memories. The ones where someone tells you what you did, and you “remember” them. I bet that I could fill an entire year’s worth of posts with only these memories. Believe it or not, the quote above isn’t even the most shocking.

Words and moments I am proud of are often elusive and, if I am being honest, I truly don’t even really remember them. There has been the odd occasion when someone has said to me, “It meant a lot to me when you said or did (XYZ),” and I have to pretend, “Of course, I remember! Thank you for sharing that with me.” My inner dialogue usually goes one of two ways: a) “Awe! Yay! I did something nice!” or b) “Oof! Good one, Jesus. If that were really me, it would NOT have gone that way.” (Insert crying laughing emoji here.)

So, what is it about these words and moments that make them so different in my mind? We would all rather be famous than infamous, so why do so many more of my lesser proud moments invade my mind than all the good? After contemplating this for a long time, I think it comes down to a couple truths that I have been known to share from time to time. First, it’s my primal nature to completely blow it. Second, I learn more from my failures than my successes. And lastly, anything good that I do, isn’t really me doing it.

You know that phrase, “Everyone is basically good at the core”? It’s a big, fat lie. It’s just simply not true. No, we aren’t! Since the beginning of time, humanity has proved over and over again, that left to our own devices, we will choose to advance ourselves. We move in ways that advance our own causes and benefit us. If it happens to look altruistic, the more the better! I mean, of course, Eve took the fruit and ate it because she was absolutely thinking of how the knowledge of good and evil was going to benefit future humanity… not at all because it would make her “like God.” And Adam (poor schmuck), WHO WAS WITH HER, ate it because even though he knew it was what God had expressly said not to do, he just loved Eve so much that he couldn’t imagine a world without her in it and he would rather die with her than live another moment without her. Like it was a Hunger Games moment and she was Katniss handing him the berries at the end of the first games. Eve beckoned him with her eyes that seemed to say: “Trust me.”

No, no, NO! Selfishly, they both wanted to be like God and know all the things God knows. Selfishly, they both questioned the fairness and goodness of God to keep such knowledge from them. Selfishly, they were like: “That’s right! Let’s stick it to the man! Imma do my thing!” Selfishly, they were like: “I need to live MY truth.” How many times have I been them? When I thought: I want what I want and I will say and do whatever it takes to get it? When my desire to be right and have my way and my truth and my life outweighs any other thought, desire, or guideline that has been set up. Sure, I can justify my actions with the best of them, I can hide my true nature with fig leaves or point to someone else in an attempt to distract you from what I am actually doing. “These are not the droids you are looking for.” Sleight of hand, misdirection, blame over shame, the list goes on and on, but the truth is: my biggest problem is me.

“He must increase; I must decrease.” (John 3:30) This is what John the Baptist said when his followers asked him how they should respond now that Jesus was baptizing and getting quite the following. He didn’t say: “Ramp up the marketing, boys. Offer new incentives! ‘Two for one baptism by the locust eating and honey drinking man himself!’” He didn’t try to point back to how he was right or first. His motives and understanding of what he was doing were solely based on what Christ came to do. I bet he didn’t even remember every person he baptized or what he said to them. Why? Because it wasn’t about HIM! Do you see where I am going here?

Most of the moments that I replay over and over in my mind are moments where my flesh was winning. My motives for speaking or doing something were not based on what Christ wanted, but rather on what I wanted. What makes me sick, is that I may have even convinced myself and others that my motives were “Christian.” But, friends, where there is no love, no compassion, no mercy, there is no Christ.

“Someone is going to die, and someone is going to get pregnant, and you are all going to regret it.” This was a loud, self-righteous, judgemental statement from my mouth as a fifteen-year-old. A sophomore in Biology class during a dissection lab where my lab partner and I got into a debate with our friends about their partying. A gift of regret to be sure. It wasn’t even a month later that I found out one of my best friends since kindergarten was pregnant. It was three years later that my first kiss died in a drunk driving car accident. I wasn’t wrong, but I was full of regret. Regret for my judgemental heart. Regret for my lack of love. Regret for my lack of Jesus. It is in my nature to blow it.

“Failure is the launchpad of success.” I have read that statement over and over again since I was an undergrad. I’m not sure what essay or book I first read it in, but J.K. Rowling famously dedicated an entire Harvard graduation speech to its merit. When things go well, we rarely give the process of how we got there a second glance. When things go wrong, you best believe we are going over those moments with a fine-tooth comb to figure out how to not do that again. When a rocket blows up, NASA reviews every second. When a professional athlete blows it during a big game, the replay is both instant and incessant. When the POTUS falls up the stairs or off a bike, you best believe that everyone is figuring out how to NOT let that happen again. When rockets go up without a hitch and players perfectly execute their skill, we move on to the next moment. There is no news station reporting: “The President walked up the stairs without incident and here is a lengthy review of each step.” I have to believe that when I blow it, I have an opportunity to learn something. My falling on my face moments are gifts of regret that have innate truths to help me succeed in the future. So, when they replay in my mind, I ask: “OK, what do I need to learn from this?” and “Is there anyone I need to apologize to?” After all, I did say I’d like to be famous not infamous.

I am a Christian. (If you started singing, “I am a C H” followed by clapping, you are my people.) That means that I have said this life isn’t about me. It’s about him. The pseudo good I do in my own strength is like “filthy rags” (Isaiah 64) in comparison to what God has done. Anything truly good that I do now isn’t me who does it at all, rather it is Christ in me who does it (Galatians 2:20). He is transforming me daily to see beyond my guck to his glory. In fact, I have watched him time and time again use my regrets and failures to point back to him. If I’m willing to let him. I claim the confidence that Paul writes to the Philippians at the very beginning of his letter. He who began a good work in me will be faithful to complete it. Praise the Lord that this crazy, selfish, rude, loud, coarse jesting, procrastinating, judgemental fool is getting work done by the creator of the universe. Praise him that anything good comes from me. Praise him that my soul would desire more and more to be united with him. Praise him for the gift of regret.

“Out of love,
No regrets–
Though the goodness
Be wasted forever.

Out of love,
No regrets–
Though the return
Be never.”

― Langston Hughes,

*Also, it is July 4th, 2022. I would be remiss to not say: praise him for the freedoms I currently have in America. The ability to write freely about him. The freedom to choose him. The freedom to worship him. These freedoms are a gift and they may not always be available to me. They are not available to so many around the world. Pray with me today for those hiding his word in the floorboards of their homes. Pray with me for those who only have the ability to hide his word in their hearts. Pray with me they would feel supernatural strength to share that word despite the consequences. Amen.