Wow, it has been a long time since I’ve posted, but life has been busy, and I’ve been pushing off my postings… Well, maybe I’ll do better, maybe I won’t, I don’t really know, but I’ve come back because I have a friend who posted something on his blog that I felt was worth sharing, so ladies and gentlemen, without further adieu, I give you Chris Hall:

It’s strange the way our mistakes can haunt us long after they’ve happened. Certainly, there are transgressions whose effects are naturally felt through the years, but then there are others that, while they seemed so small at the time, carry on much longer than you would have thought.
I never wanted to be someone who looked back and saw only mistakes – that’s no way to live – and I don’t think that’s how I view my life when looking back. Sure, I have my regrets but I don’t let them darken the sun in my skies. This week, though, I’ve been thinking back to one regret in particular. One time where I sincerely wish I’d turned left instead of right, spoken instead of being silent.
Some time ago I had a very dear friend. She was very sweet and very caring. Her compassion seemed limitless and she was a far better friend to me than I ever deserved. She held an optimism that seemed to keep the contemptible in me at bay and I was a better person for knowing her. The last time she called me I was sitting at my desk, the same one I’m writing at now. She said she wouldn’t be calling me anymore. She had to move on with her life. She had a different road to take and it was a road that went away from me.
I didn’t blame her. I knew what she was telling me was the truth. This was simply the way things were. Events I helped set in motion had reached their inevitable conclusion. Still, I felt cold after our brief conversation. I felt naked to the wind and I knew that I had lost something good.
My regret, even still, is that I took her for granted. I took something that was deliberately bright and true in my life and threw it in the weeds of apathy. It was a loss of my own making and something I can never gain back. She did move on with her life and, from what I hear, is very happy. I’m glad to hear that. I’m glad that she’s happy . She deserves it more than most.
I hadn’t intended to write about her. I tried not to. I thought it was too personal, but it affects me now and I’m learning from it now and that is reason enough to share.
Some of the best advice my dad has ever given me is to get rid of the “what ifs” in my life. I’ve never been much of a risk taker but when I hear my dad’s voice telling me those words I know that what I can’t risk is my life on the mundane. True, risks involve pain and I’ve had plenty when those risks didn’t pay off. But that pain is nothing compared to the pain of “what if.”
So I’ve decided I want 2010 to be the year with no “what ifs.” That means a lot of risks, a lot of joy, a lot of pain. But isn’t that the way life should be lived? When 2011 rolls around and we’re one year closer to oblivion I better not be looking back at this year and asking “what if?”.
“What if I hadn’t taken a friend for granted?”
“What if I’d gone out and lived for other people?”
“What if I’d told you that I loved you?”
“What if I’d made that phone call?”
“What if, what if, what if…” The possibilities go on and on. The point is life is short. These years pass with alarming speed and the dead cannot seize a second chance. Live well because this year may be the last you can. Sometimes it takes a look back at the days we didn’t seize to give us reason to relish today.
When my end comes and my Maker asks me how I liked His gift I want to be able to say “It was a life well lived.”

You can find Chris at The Cynic’s Alley

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