wanted for my girlfriend, for me, or for the baby inside of her. I
was singing the ugliest song a person can sing: “Me! Me! Me!”
It wasn’t long after our pregnancy was terminated that I sat
alone in my bedroom, hung my head, and cried. I’d finally real-
ized the severity and finality of what I had done. I knew I had
taken the life of my child—our child, God’s child—and that this
was terribly wrong. It was a pain as deep as any I’ve ever felt. That
pain and my secretive response to it led to major health problems
(including ulcers) with life-threatening severity.
After several months of suffering, I opened up to my parents
and a few others about the abortion. They all treated me lovingly
and consolingly, but their shock and anger leaked through their
nice words.
Regret from irreversible choices and consequences would
become a familiar companion of mine for years to come. Eventually
I would try to make it right with the mother of my unborn child,
asking for her forgiveness for my selfishness and forcefulness.
She said she forgave me.
But her forgiveness was not enough.
I needed God’s forgiveness.
I needed to feel his forgiveness.
And I needed to find some way to forgive myself.
But I couldn’t forgive myself. So I continued my detached
journey of waking up and then starting, enduring, and ending my
day full of inconsolable regret. My shameful ruminations often
cut off any meaningful connection with others. I was convinced
that I would regret what I had done to my baby every single day
for the rest of my life.
As the months and even years passed, I continued to ask myself
what, if anything, I could do to relieve myself of regret for the
wrong I had done. This nagging question haunted everything I
did. I knew God always forgives because of the work of his Son,
Jesus Christ, on the cross—but that his forgiveness could be for
me, and could extend to this act, was beyond my comprehension.
I felt I had gone too far, had committed something beyond God’s
grace. And to forgive myself without knowing and feeling that
God forgave me would be impossible.
What did I have to look forward to besides more mistakes,
more sins, more self-condemnation increasing the gap between
me and others? Saddled with this heavy burden, I made my way
the best I could.
take the bad things they’ve done and just ignore them all, hoping
they’ll go away.
The more they try this, the more their regrets and fears com
pound.
If “stuffing” is what you’ve done with your guilt, Regret-Free
Living will show you how to get out your shovel, drop to your
knees, and start digging until you’ve found that awful buried
“treasure” inside you. We’re going to haul that moldy, smelly old
trunk out of the ground, sweep off the dirt and mud, pry it open,
and dispose of all the toxic, deteriorated, useless stuff inside.
Maybe the thing you regret involves mistreating a
loved one.
Maybe, because it benefited you in some way, you accused
someone of doing something you knew they didn’t do.
Maybe you took credit for someone else’s work.
Maybe you let a little office flirtation turn into something
that caused much hurt.
Maybe you made foolish decisions that put you and your
family in deep financial trouble.
The list goes on and on and on, doesn’t it? And so do the
regrets, guilt, and shame that doing those things produces. But
it doesn’t have to be this way. There’s a road out of that terrible,
ever-downward spiral.
After I convinced my pregnant girlfriend to end the life of our
child, I thought there was no way I’d ever alleviate the inner pain
I felt from having encouraged and allowed such a terrible thing.
For a long time, everything I did or felt happened in a dark and
gloomy shadow.
But you know what? With God’s grace, I eventually found
the path that led to living without regrets controlling so much of
what I did. I discovered that I could come out of any self-created
darkness and step back into the light God intended to shine down
upon me.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Regret-free living isn’t found by
continuing to do flawed things, then simply “working through”
the regret they cause and moving on. You must also take full
responsibility for what you do in the first place—hopefully, before
you do them. The more responsibility you take for your choices,
the less regret they’re likely to cause you. I’m not suggesting a feel-
good philosophy that leads people to go untethered to poor deci-
sions and keep on making them. Responsibility, a mature concept
I did not largely grasp until I was in my twenties, is a critical step
on the road to regret-free living.
I pray this book will help you start to live without debilitating
regret and that you will discover that God has amazing things
he wants to do with you—things you can’t do if you’re burdened
with regret.
And I hope that you also read with someone else in mind,
that you likewise can become a solid support and wise resource
for someone filled with their own regrets. You won’t have to look
far to find such a person.
I’m going to do something I rarely do at the beginning of
a book. I’m going to ask you to read these few verses below.
There’s something in them worth noting at the beginning of this
journey.
But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives:
love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,