Nothing Wasted

Have you ever pondered the question: “if you could go back in time and change any one decision, would you and which would it be? I used to get really irritated with those people who with seemingly no thought at all replied that there was no way. Were their lives so perfect that they had nothing to un-do? Some would respond negatively because they are who they are today because of the decisions they made. Great, but looking at your life from my perspective, sure leaves me wondering.

Then there’s me. I probably waste too much time wondering about what life might be like if I had done this instead of that. I would have a long list of potential changes, but I would be hard pressed to make a decision because I’d be afraid I’d make the wrong one yet again.

The fallout from one awful choice affects me in very obvious ways but also in ways no one can imagine. Our Sunday School class is planning a trip for next Fall to Canada. Nelson could go but he won’t. I can’t because Canada doesn’t allow felons to cross their borders. My High School class sent out an email regarding our 35th reunion. They’re considering booking a cruise. Hope they have a good time.

Now, before you think I’m just having too good a time at this little pity me party, please realize that I’ve come to accept these things as “is.” They are results of the poorest choices I’ve made in my life. But there is another side to consider. For me it is the philosophical and theological position that nothing is or should be wasted.

Right now I have a job that I wouldn’t have picked for myself. I spend five to six hours a day, three or four times a week, with an eighty-six year old woman who has Alzheimer’s. She doesn’t like having me hang out there, but it enables her family to keep her in the family home. At first I argued with God about the job. Talk about waste! Arguing with God? What was I thinking? When I finally quit arguing, I looked at the quiet hours completely differently: all that time to read, all that time to write, all that time to pray. My schedule is extremely flexible and I get to be home to watch my grandson.

My grandson. If I went back and undid that horrible decision, I wouldn’t have the pure joy this incredible child brings to my life every day. I would have grandchildren, but probably not the amazing three that I have because we would be living life differently and so would our girls and they would have had different decisions to make and on and on.

God knew all that. I don’t believe that God wanted me to make the decision that I made any more than he wanted or liked some of the decisions that David, Moses, Abraham, Paul, or Peter made. From the beginning God knew there would be heartache: his and ours because of choices. He could have created us, wired us, to always choose him, but he wanted us to want him so we had to be free to also choose to not want him. Even in that he demonstrates an immense love for us by showing us that he will take the mess we have made and reshape it into something useful and beautiful.

A few weekends ago, I shared my testimony, my story, at a retreat. I did this once before at the seminary where I got my counseling degree. It’s not that I enjoy getting vulnerable and opening the doors for people to hate me or be unkind to me. I tell my story to show the immeasurable grace and mercy of our Heavenly Father. I tell my story as a wakeup call to people who are dangerously close to making life decisions that could result in the ruination and loss of all they hold dear and sacred. I tell my story so that others who are surrounded the mess they made in their life by lousy, unhealthy, disastrous decisions can see that God can truly make beauty from ashes.

In the Gospels there is the story of Jesus feeding the multitudes with the lunch a boy had with him. Some say the greatest miracle was that the boy still had his lunch when Jesus needed it. Others say it was pretty miraculous the way Jesus and the disciples organized the massive crowd and got everybody fed in such short order. It’s all pretty amazing. The part that means the most to me was the way Jesus sent the disciples back and collected the leftovers, because nothing was to be wasted. That’s the way God works. That’s how he looks at life.

So I was sitting here just meditating on God as Redeemer and I got this image of God as the Great Recycler. Now, if we humans can figure out how to turn elephant poop into paper (http://www.elephantdungpaper.com/) and sell it for profit, don’t you think the Creator of the universe can figure out what to do with the mess you’ve made of your life?