Years ago, I made a mistake that caused adversity for one of my children. The decision was morally neutral. Parents make similar decisions about education, medical care, activities, commitments, and friendships every day. My husband and I believed at the time that it was the best thing. But we were missing crucial pieces of information, and the fallout was far weightier than we could have imagined. It wasn’t until it was too late to change course that we realized the choice we should have made.
The Ache of Hindsight
We apologized and did our best to help, but it fell mostly on the child’s shoulders. The bulk of the trial was over within a few months. But for the next several years, every time this particular child struggled, my mind would go back to that fork in the road. Would we be here right now if we had chosen differently? Was it really a temporary trial, or was that just the first domino to fall?
So much of life is like that. We weigh our options and choose the path, unaware of what will happen beyond those first steps. It’s only in looking back that we gain clarity. God is sovereign, and he works all things for our good and his glory. It’s easy to rest in that for my own life. It’s harder to see in the lives of my children.
I wanted so badly for their lives to be free of hardship and pain. That is of course impossible—and ultimately not good for them—but I want it all the same. It’s hard to realize you made a decision that caused your own suffering. But to realize that we were responsible for the suffering of another is an even heavier weight to bear.
When the Weight Isn’t Sin but Sorrow
The problem is that in every choice, especially when we view them in hindsight, we can see our own self interest in the decision. We thought it was the best decision, but it was also the path that seemed easier at the time. When the trial is caused by our sin, we repent and throw ourselves on the throne of grace. When the trial is just the result of being human in a world of uncertain outcomes, we flounder. We churn internally and replay our options. We take ourselves back to the fork in the road and wish for a do-over.
The Lies Regret Tells
But when we look at the things that went well, we are far less hard on ourselves. Of course it was the right thing to do. I knew it all along! We forget that we were following our own self interests—or picking the path of least resistance—in those choices as well.
And there are other decisions with my other children. I see those forks as well, and wonder. Was the pain really necessary? Would another choice have been better?
The saying goes that you are only as happy as your unhappiest child. Was it really the struggle that I mourned, or was it that I felt responsible? In other circumstances, when the adversity was caused by a goal they had chosen for themselves, I cheered them on and celebrated the life lessons.
I realized recently that every one of my mistakes shaped this child into the adult they are today. The adult that is working, serving, following, and worshiping. A different path may have been smoother, but it may not have led to the same result.
The Story God Keeps Writing
God is sovereign in all things, of course. Understanding this truth—at least as far as my human mind will allow—has been essential to my peace and growth as a Christian. God is not watching my choices and gasping in surprise. He is not wringing his hands, wondering if he will be able to accomplish his plan in spite of me.
This is what exposes my unbelief. Deep down, I still believe I have the power to derail God’s purposes. It sounds ridiculous when I put it this way. But when I look back with regret, even if there was no real sin involved, my continual churning communicates that this is exactly how I feel.
I knew God could work it out, though I sometimes doubted that he would. But not only was he writing my child’s story and refining their character, he was refining mine as well. Nothing drives you to your knees more than seeing your mistakes play out in the life of another. But God’s grace meets us even there.
Even my imperfect choices were part of his perfect plan.
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