Regrettably, Sometimes There Are Regrets

The night before last Barret's high school volleyball team won their first round bracket of sudden death elimination in the NCS (North Coast Section) finals. It was a nail-biter and they took best of five games, all the way down to the last. They now advance to the semi-final round and play tonight in Oakland, California. Victoria and I are thrilled because most of our children's sporting teams have typically ended up on the right side of the win-lose column. So this is the thrill of a lifetime for Barret, and he's just beaming with joy. That's the good news.

The sad news is that I missed the game. In fact I've missed many of his games this year. Most have been played on Tuesday's and Thursday's, the same nights that I have obligations at church. I've worked hard to make it to the first game or two of a set on those evenings, but then usually have to quickly run out the door to make it to my other obligation(s) on time. I even showed up to this championship game before anyone else came to tell Barret I love, him, was praying for him and was sorry that I couldn't be there. Then I scooted off to church. Believe me, the tension is always strong, the cognitive dissonance heavy and the guilt high. And now I have a burdened heart and a disappointing countenance because Barret's father missed the game of all games. So what's a dad to do?

I'm not sure I know the right answer to that question, if there is one. God's graciousness to me as a father has permitted me to shepherd for a season these bundles of love while they're in my care. And God's graciousness to me has also permitted to me to shepherd those in His church He calls "My beloved". Hundreds of decisions cross our paths everyday, and we're constantly making choices about what's best. More often than not I am at peace with the decisions to spend time with my bundles of love or His beloved (and even work for that matter), but every once in awhile I look back and have regrets. This decision to miss Barret's game was the right one in both my mind and heart, but I still have regrets. So in a situation like this, I ask God to cover Barret's heart with a shield of understanding that won't allow an arrow of bitterness to pierce through. Likewise, when the tables are turned, I often ask God to cover the heart of His beloved with a barrier of understanding so that roots of bitterness won't sprout through. I believe God can do this and save us all from lifelong heartaches due to "missed opportunities". And I've also asked God to release me from a maligned conscience that might haunt me in days, weeks, months and years ahead.

As with many posts like this, I hope that Barret will one day read it so that the sincerity of my love for him can be expressed and known in more than what I do with him day to day. The heart has deep rivers that are difficult to plumb, but we work hard to expose them for all to see, especially our children.

"Go Barret! I'll see you at the game tonight."