Looking Back and Giving Myself Grace

Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of looking back. You know how it goes—one day you’re 25 thinking you have forever to figure it all out, and then somehow you blink and decades have flown by. Now I find myself sitting here wondering: Have I really accomplished anything important? Or did I just let time slip through my fingers?

Honestly? Some days it feels like both.

There are days I look back and feel like I’ve failed. My marriage hasn’t turned out the way I dreamed. I beat myself up over the kind of wife or mom I’ve been. I think about the career I once wanted but never pursued—because I didn’t believe in myself enough to take the risk back then. And now? It feels too late. Those are the heavy days. The “regret” days.

But then—every once in a while—I pause and remind myself to breathe. I remind myself to look at the whole picture.

They’re turning out okay.

My youngest used to have no fear of gymnastics. She seemed like she was taking on the world—fearless, determined, unstoppable—until life hit her with illness and injury. Now I pray daily that she finds the determination and moxie to return to the sport she loves and is so amazing at.

Then there’s my big-hearted special needs kiddo who hasn’t quite found his passion yet. And that’s okay—he’s got time, and I pray he’ll discover it when the timing is right.

One of my others is training to be a firefighter/EMT… a hero in the making. And another? He’s known since 7th grade that he wanted to work in cybersecurity, and he’s already achieved that goal.

And yes, I see where my oldest struggles because she hasn’t yet found the courage to leave a relationship where she’s not fully valued. And sure, I can’t help but wonder if maybe I wasn’t the best role model for that. But even so, I can’t help but admire her. She’s gone back to college, working full time, raising her sweet little one, and chasing her dream of becoming a teacher. That takes courage.

So instead of dwelling on all the things I didn’t do, or didn’t teach them, I try to flip the lens. I look for the good.

I think about dinners with the next-door neighbors when the kids were little. About all of them growing up together with endless laughs and adventures. I remember bike rides in the street, baseball games in the front yard, and even those slightly spooky adventures of “Ghost in the Graveyard” (hide and go seek in the pitch dark).

I think about the library activities every summer, the reading programs, park days, picnics, water balloon fights in the summer, snowball fights in the winter, and racing foil boats down the street after a big rain. The walks on the trail where we’d spot deer and foxes, being careful not to step on snakes, and trying to outrun the bugs.

Trick-or-treating in a huge neighborhood group. Growing up surrounded by dogs and cats. Trying out different sports and activities.

No, we didn’t take extravagant vacations. We didn’t have the latest gadgets or the biggest house or any of those “Pinterest-perfect” family moments. But we had our moments. The ones that made our life full in a different way.

I don’t think God ever intended for us to give our kids the greatest, latest, and biggest things. I don’t think His definition of “success” as a parent was ever tied to material stuff or exotic vacations. I think it’s about teaching them honor, courage, respect, and love.

Psalm 127:3 (NIV)
"Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him."

“In the end, kids won’t remember that fancy toy or the trip you couldn’t afford. They’ll remember the way you made them feel loved.”

Whatever regrets you may carry, don’t forget to also look at the successes—no matter how small they seem. And don’t forget to pray. Not just for your own guidance, but for God’s intercession in the lives of those around you.

My life may not have gone as I planned or envisioned, but by walking with God and taking time each day to praise Him, I can see the good that’s come out of it.

A Little Prayer for You

Lord, thank You for walking with me through every season—the joyful, the messy, and the hard. Help me to let go of regrets and see the beauty You’ve woven into my story. Give me the courage to keep moving forward and the wisdom to pray not just for myself but for those I love. Remind me that success in Your eyes looks different than the world’s, and that Your plans are always good. Amen.