There are times when God opens my heart, and I can see His
will, and do it. And I feel a great
joy. But there are other times, and
other things I do, which looking back at them I feel nothing but regret. If I were permitted to ask for only one thing
on my Christmas list, it would be that I have no more regrets.
Sometimes I have regrets over things I have chosen to do:
§
I didn’t prioritize helping that person in need;
I had “better” things to do.
§
I spent long hours at work, alone, when there
was community, family, that needed my presence.
§
I spent time at play with friends, and God was
alone.
§
I loved those who could love me back, not those
who couldn’t.
§
I built a career, a home, and now I am alone.
§
Late have
I loved Thee, ever Ancient, ever New.
While I have these (and many more) regrets over things I chose to do, I feel much more agonizing regrets over things I would NEVER have chosen to do --- but I did them anyway. I did those things not as chosen actions, but instinctive re-actions, actions of my heart. These reactions showed who I really was, not who I wanted to be. And God reads the heart. I deeply regret my poor reactions and my being the man I was --- and in many ways still am. How I wish I could change my heart, and my reactions:
§
I was angry at the actions of those who couldn’t
control their actions.
§
I was irritated at those who made mistakes, but
didn’t know they made them.
§
I looked down on those who failed to see what I
saw, not excusing their blindness.
§
I gave the short, convenient answers, not the
complete explanations that would avoid confusion, and hurt feelings.
§
I acted in haste, not love.
§
I told the lie someone wanted to hear, not the
truth they needed to.
How I wish I would have no future regrets, such as these.
The Gospel today had the poor woman giving to the temple her
only two coins. It’s actions of the
heart which matter, even in little things.
Do them with no regrets, no anger.
What is it that I really want this Christmas? I want no more regrets. I want to live as He created me to live, to
love as He loved. Then my gift would, in
some small way, be a celebration of His gift, and my re-birth a celebration with
His.
I picked up the worn copy of My Imitations of Christ from my
coffee table last night, and opened it at random to read:
I know thy secret thoughts; I know that it is very expedient for thy
soul that thou shouldst sometimes be left without consolation, lest thou
shouldst be puffed up with much success and shouldst take a complacence in
thyself, imagining thyself to be what thou art not.
Tom, what a thoughtful reflection.
ReplyDeleteThis came to mind as I read it.
In the car today I tuned in to the Catholic Radio station, and the program, The Inner Life with Chuck Neff, the host, and his guest spiritual director, Fr. Ben Cameron was on. The program was dealing with post-abortion healing. When I tuned in a young woman was speaking about her abortion, and how even though she's been to confession about it she still cannot get over the pain and sorrow of it (regret). Fr. Cameron told her about a spiritual imagination to try while in front of the Blessed Sacrament. He told her to close her eyes and imagine Jesus was in front of her with the book of her life open, and on each page were the events of her life, good and bad. And Jesus says to her, looking at the page that recorded the abortion, "Would you like Me to rip this page out?" And the girl said, "Oh yes."
Even I was in tears as I listened, imagining such a thing for her, and the relief of true forgiveness, that the page is ripped out and gone, as if it never happened.
I can see how this would apply to any and all of our past sins, which we regret and cannot seem to forget. I think I'll be using this reflection myself for my own regrets.
God bless.
Fran
Oh beautiful reflections, praise God! I must go to confession - what a gift that I seem to take for granted too many times.
ReplyDeleteYes, it's good sometimes to see our actions with a clear mind, and to humbly admit we could have done better.
ReplyDeleteI try to get to confession once a month. I walk in and sit off to the side, not in line. I read some of my brievary or spiritual books, or say a rosary. And in the midst of these things I consider what I will confess. In recent years God has used that time to open my heart, and most often I find myself confessing sins I had not noticed, as they occurred. But in the quiet time, God could speak to me. And I feel my confessions are most beneficial to me.
I read how Pope JPII used to go to confession daily, and I wondered how he could perceive any serious sin in just a day, but my reflections give me better insights on how that may be possible. We all are far from perfect, and it's a good thing to admit it.