Things That Are Bigger Than God, Part 2

What if.

Freaky 80's hair and clear-as-mud music video plot line aside, Mick Hucknall nails it for me. 

The remarkable power of regret.

The half-hearted desire to move away from the pain of past mistakes inextricably tied to the seemingly helpless obedience to its melancholy grip.  The obsession with self-reproach and nostalgia is a horror movie.  At times it lies dormant, but, like a full moon to the undead, something small, something innocuous will set it off.  The snippet of an old song.  Finding a photograph.  A look from an unknowing friend.

How many days and nights have I prayed to God to deliver me from it?  How many days and nights have I prayed to God to help stop the reruns?  The problem is, I may never have meant any of those prayers.  God has most likely released me from my regrets, but I keep holding on.  I make the regrets stronger than God's power to set me free.

Choices are made.  Hearts are broken.  People come and go. 

What if I had applied myself more in school?  What if I had not given up on my dreams?   What if I told them I how I felt about them?  How I feel?  Is it too late?  Fear paralyzes me.  It's better, I tell myself, to live with the vaguely conceivable "maybe" than with the absolute "no."  I'm not strong enough to deal with this one yet. 

Perhaps in a few months I'll find the silver bullet.