Regret

       I am tortured by my good intentions.  I've decided I'm either going to have to find a way to follow through or lower the bar--one of the other, but I can't deal with the torment of regret any longer.  

     Being in the military, nearly every summer, friends we have grown to love move away.  Yesterday some good friends of ours kicked the dust of this small Oklahoma town off of their shoes and headed to Hawaii to go to graduate school.  After talking about doing it for months, we finally had them over for dinner a few weeks ago.  Now I have fully embraced the notion that we're not the only ones with phones, but these friends don't have kids, and we have three--little, messy ones, so it really falls to us to do the inviting.  It was great having them here.  You know there are some people you just instantly feel a connection to--call them kindred spirits.  Among those people, there are also a few you feel that God has put in your life for a reason, and they were both.  The next few weeks flew by--I made one invitation that didn't work out, and the next thing I know they're leaving town in a couple of days, and the monster's staring me in the face again.  

     It took me right back to last summer when my neighbor sat at my kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee just as I had imagined her doing many, many times before, only I had never actually invited her--at least not until the day before she moved.  We talked in the yard a lot as the kids played, we saw each other at social functions, but I had never invited her into my home.  I think it's necessary at this point to put forth a few facts about my life then--I had just had my third baby earlier that spring, motherhood was overwhelming me--some days I didn't get my teeth brushed until late afternoon--showers were even harder to come by, I was totally sleep deprived, and (this part is still true) I am a fundamentally messy person who would really like for every one to think that my house is clean and beautiful at least most of the time.  So even though I did have some legitimate reasons for being reclusive, as she sat at my table, in the middle of a painful divorce from an unfaithful husband, I knew she wouldn't have cared if my dishes had been done or even if my teeth were brushed.  And that made me sad.  Since she left, I've done the best I can to pray for her, and stay in touch via e-mail.  Certainly on some level, I was doing the best I could at the time.  But still. . . regret.

     I decided to try and do it differently this time around.  I prayed, "Lord, help me finish well."  And I think I did.  I think these friends left knowing that they were loved, and that we would keep in touch.  My hope is that we will grow closer even though we don't live in the same place anymore.

     Making that choice--to do the best I could with the time I had left, was a major shift for me that has been very empowering.  Instead of beating myself up for what I should have done, I'm focusing on not having regrets in the future.  I know I won't do everything I would like to, but I know that God will give me the strength, energy, and desire to do what He has called me to do. 

     I guess I don't have to lower the bar or find a way to follow through.  I think all I have to do is let Someone else set the bar for me, and the rest will work itself out.