Regrets

image by Matt Collamer on Unsplash

 

It was over thirty years ago, but I still remember my brother-in-law’s words:

“Your grandma’s covered, Paul.  The preacher is the one who messed up.”

A famous television evangelist had been exposed for the charlatan he was.  His diamond rings—the ones that had been air-brushed out in his publicity photos—had been reported to the world, along with his mansions and luxury cars.  It was finally clear that he was fleecing the little old ladies who had faithfully sent him their five and ten-dollar bills for decades.

I was angry.  I could only air my unhappiness to the family member standing beside me that day, but I was pulled up short by my brother-in-law’s declaration.

I had wondered aloud what the little old ladies (and anyone else who had supported the man) were feeling knowing their money was supporting a lavish lifestyle for a very wealthy man and his family but had not gone to the ministries they intended to help at all.

We’ve all done it—given to help someone, only to find they didn’t really need it, or they used our gift for some other purpose altogether.  We are hurt and angry, deciding to never help that person again.

Then there is the person we’ve helped again and again in their need, giving money or furniture or time, only to realize that they will never be there to help us when we need something.

I read the statement on social media the other day.  My first thought was to agree.  I’ve been there.  Giving and not receiving.

I regret the good things I did for the wrong people.

Perhaps your response is the same as mine was initially.

I simply sat nodding my head.  Remembering the hurt—the resentment.

Then, the words came to my mind.  Quietly, but with purpose. I don’t know where they came from; they were just there.

“I wonder if God ever feels like that.”

Oh.

That hits home.

I don’t think He feels like that.

But, I do know what He did.  And what He does.

“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
(Romans 5:8, NIV)

That’s what Love does.

But the world lies.  It lies.

All around us, the catchphrases and memes fly.

“You deserve to be loved!”
“Don’t waste your time on people who don’t reciprocate.”
“Don’t give to people who don’t deserve your gift.”
“Stay away from negative people.”

We’re not the world!  We’re not.

In His prayer for His followers, Jesus said, “They do not belong to this world any more than I do.”  And yes, He was talking about His followers throughout the ages to come as well.  He went on to pray, “I am praying not only for these disciples but also for all who will ever believe in me through their message.
(John 17: 16,20—NLT)

That’s us!  Not of this world.

So why do we adopt their philosophies?  Their slogans?  Their lifestyles?

If I refuse to give to anyone who can’t or won’t give back, I’m nothing but a businessman, making a transaction.  Tit for tat.  Quid pro quo.

Here’s the thing:  The one transaction that matters has already been made in the gift given to each of us who claim to be followers of Christ.  The only thing required of us, who have freely received, is to give freely.

Freely.  No encumbrances. 

No anticipation of reimbursement.

Open hands, giving from open hearts.

We are responsible for our responses to God’s instruction.  Others will answer for how they responded, but that’s none of our affair.

One of my favorite moments in the Narnia series of books by C.S. Lewis is in The Horse and His Boy.  The protagonist, Shasta, is introduced to Aslan the Lion in a terrifying manner.  Even in his fear, he asks several questions—one of them about an injury that happened to his companion.

The Lion answers back clearly.

“Child, I am telling you your story, not hers.  I tell no one any story but his own.”

In modern terminology, the instructions are to stay in our lane.  God has given each of us a road to walk, with our own tasks to accomplish.  What others do should not determine how we respond to Him.

But, along the way, our road will intersect with others who have needs—needs we are equipped to help fulfill.  We need to be obedient in aiding them, regardless of what they do afterward.

There is no regret to be felt when we do good, especially the good our Creator has asked us to do.

Don’t let someone else’s actions turn you away from the journey, or its destination.

Don’t regret what you failed to do, worrying about how they would respond.

Open hands.  Open heart.

No regrets.

It seems a good way to honor our Savior who somehow I doubt feels regret for what he did to help us at all.

 

 

“Get rid of all bitterness, rage, anger, harsh words, and slander, as well as all types of evil behavior.  Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.”
(Ephesians 4:31-32, NLT)

 

“’Then it was you who wounded Aravis?’
‘It was I.’
‘But what for?’
‘Child,’ said the Voice, ‘I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own.’
‘Who are you?’ asked Shasta.
‘Myself,’ said the Voice, very deep and low so that the earth shook: and again, ‘Myself,’ loud and clear and gay: and then the third time, ‘Myself,’ whispered so softly you could hardly hear it, and yet it seemed to come from all around you as if the leaves rustled with it.”
(from The Horse and His Boy, by C.S. Lewis)

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2024. All Rights Reserved.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.