It was gone. Now, I had to learn a lesson about handling regrets.
I thought about my now-gone treasure early one morning when a co-worker asked, “Have you ever regretted getting rid of something?”
I love antiques and have since I was young. No one else in my immediate family seemed to appreciate them, but somewhere along the way, I fell in love with them. So, as my extended family members aged and wanted to pass along some of their belongings, I snatched them up.
Among my treasures was a pocket watch that belonged to my maternal grandfather, Pappy. He knew I loved the watch. I had listened to his story about how he came to own it. Someone he knew had it. Pappy wanted it, so he offered the person a .22 rifle in exchange. The man accepted, and from then on, Pappy wore it daily, hung proudly on every pair of Dickie pants he owned.
I didn’t know it until after he died, but he had told my grandmother to give it to me. I was ecstatic. The only regret I had was that the gold chain didn’t come with it. I’m not sure what happened to that.
Mom bought me a small watch display case, and I proudly displayed the treasure in every house I lived in. When my wife and I married, I lived in an old turn-of-the-century home. Here, the watch lay on a small pie-crust table in my living room.
Loving antiques as I did, I suggested to my wife that she and I open an antique store in our home, which she gladly agreed to. Of course, we had many things we marked NFS, including Pappy’s watch. But one customer wanted it. I resisted his offer initially but, in a moment of stupidity, agreed to sell it. I’ve regretted it ever since.
I didn’t know the customer’s residence or name, so I couldn’t contact him to offer to purchase it back. At some point, the watch had stopped running. Perhaps he repaired it. I’ll never know—just one of the things I regret.
But forget all that—it is nothing compared to what I am going to do.
~Isaiah 43:18 NLT
I suppose many Israelites regretted their wayward ways that had led God’s people into two captivities: Egypt first and later Babylon. They spent four hundred years in the first place and seventy in the second. But God told them to forget about all that misery. He had something better for them in the future.
All of us no doubt have regrets. Bad choices we made. Like selling a family heirloom. Relationships we ended . . . or entered. Places we left behind. Things we sold like the many items my mom once sold at a yard sale and then sees at a thrift or antique store. Sins we’ve committed. People we have hurt. The times we didn’t obey what God wanted. Opportunities we let slip by.
Reflecting on such times is healthy. We can think of the lessons we’ve learned. But we shouldn’t live in that regret. Doing so will keep us from moving forward in relationships—with family, friends, and even God. We’ll find ourselves mentally and emotionally trapped.
I made a bad decision to sell a treasured family heirloom. I learned from it. So now, I keep or pass my treasures to other family members, but I won’t part with them unless circumstances give me no choice.
Regrets teach us essential life lessons. What lessons have you learned from your regrets?
Thank you for the lesson.