By Rodney Strange
"Regrets, I've had a few, but then again, too few to mention..." I have always thought the classic song, 'My Way' as one of the very best pieces of music ever penned. In my earlier years, I thought I might have it played at my funeral, for so many of my years on this earth were indeed lived just the way I saw fit to live, my way. I lived under the false assumption that, as the song says,
'I planned each charted course
Each careful step along the byway...'
And I really believed that. I was in full control of my life every step of the way. I was wrong.
Sunday was 'Senior Sunday' at our church, a Sunday set aside to commemorate the achievements of those who made it across the finish line, those who will graduate from high school and embark on a life of their choosing. Just as I so many years ago, they will set out on this new adventure with the firm belief that they are in complete control of their future.
I spent a vast portion of my life believing that my very best days were those from my high school years. During the worst periods of my adult life, I would yearn to go back to those simpler times. In my memory, those were the best years of my life. A few years ago, I sat down and began putting those memories into a novel, 'Nineteen Seventy Something.' While the story was embellished here and there, the plot, as best I remembered, was as true as the gospel. Within those three-hundred and fifty pages, I would lay out a tale which would lead up to, what I still considered thirty-five years later, the biggest regret of my life. A regret I had lived with every day of my life.
As I toiled on the script day after day for several months, I began to come to the realization that those days weren't as good as I remembered. I endured hardships and heartaches that I've not seen since. Writing the book had become therapy I never knew I needed, a means to take me from the past I wanted so badly to live in to a future I had been so blind to that I never saw coming.
It was a year ago this past Sunday that I sat in church and, just as this year's seniors were honored, my own daughter sat on the front row in her cap and gown. It was a bittersweet moment for me. There was an ominous sense that my duties as a parent were complete. There was also a sadness as I felt a sinking feeling that I was no longer needed. But through blurred eyes, there was also a sense of joy, a joy that my child's accomplishments were being celebrated by an entire congregation. There was a happiness in my heart that she...that we were in church.
I came to a revelation before that Sunday, but it amplified so loudly in my mind on that day, that my biggest regret was not from those days back in nineteen-seventy-something. Had I had it my way back in those days, this Sunday would have never happened. In fact, had I had it my way...my daughter would have never happened. It was a horrifying realization, so disturbing that I wished I had never dwelled on that fateful decision that changed the course of my life and brought me to this point.
I realize that I was never in control, that I didn't do it my way. For had I, the very best blessings of my life would have never come. The Good Lord just let me think I was doing it my way, but it was His way all along.
My biggest regret? That of the four children I raised, I've only sat in church with one. While I spent several decades thinking I didn't need to do it any other way but mine, I never darkened the door of a church...and neither did those other three children. There was no Bible School, no Sunday school, no family sitting side by side in a pew singing hymns, and no 'Senior Sundays.' When judgment day comes, I fear that will be the first question I will have to answer. And 'I did it my way' won't be an acceptable answer.
With all the evils in the world today, including school shootings, the killing of kids who will never see their 'Senior Sunday,' perhaps the answers to our problems are no further than the church down the street. If you are a parent, don't make my biggest regret yours. It's a regret that's hard to live with...and harder to answer to.