Let me describe to you how I buy dress shoes.
I walk into either a shoe store or the shoe section of a department store and immediately look for a shoe salesperson. The gender, age, or race of the salesperson does not matter. Neither does their presumed intellect because their job is going to be incredibly simple. Then I ask the salesperson (who hopefully has a pulse and knows his/her colors and numbers) to bring me all of the shoes that are size 14 and in the color that I need.
Under normal circumstances, this results in the salesperson going into the back and bringing back a total of 3 pairs of shoes. Yes, that’s right—-only 3.
One of the pairs is usually ugly. Those that you who know that my fashion sense is similar to that of a 5-year-old may wonder how I determine if a pair of shoes are ugly. It’s simple–I ask my wife.
Another pair is usually too expensive. I understand that shoes my size have to cost a certain amount due to the extra material needed to produce shoes that could house a family of 4 and that the cost of shipping shoes that large is higher due to the escort vehicles used to accompany “wide-load” trucks. I still can’t bring myself to pay an exorbitant price for shoes.
Under normal circumstances, the just leaves one pair. I buy that pair.
If you have normal-sized feet, you have probably never tried this approach. I imagine that you look at shoes in a particular color, determine what style you like best, check the price tag, and then ask the salesperson to bring you the ones that you decide would suit you the best. When the salesperson brings that particular pair out to you, you probably try them on. You probably traipse back and forth, stopping to look at them in a mirror. If you like them, you buy them. If not you ask to try on another pair. If those work, you buy them. If not you may try on another pair or go to a different store where the whole process will start again. It may take you several hours or even a few days to find the “perfect” pair.
I like my way better. It takes far less time and produces far less anxiety. But the reason I do it this way is because I have far fewer shoes to choose from. My parents always told me that beggars can’t be choosers. To me that means that if there is not much a choice, you have to settle for whatever is available.
I wish that other things in life were this easy. I wish that there were far fewer big decisions that have to be made. If there were fewer choices, maybe we would make better decisions and have fewer heartaches. If every choice was simpler, then the odds of us screwing up terribly bad would decrease. But that is not the way that life presents itself.
Faced with a wide array of choices throughout our lives, we have all made far more than a bucket full of costly errors. Errors that hurt ourselves, our families, our churches, our friends. Most of the time, we were trying to do our best to make the right choice. We never intended to hurt anyone, but we did anyway.
We try to keep our pile of regrets small, but they seem to grow at an alarming rate no matter how hard we try. The weight of those regrets press down upon us, causing us to question every other decision that we make. Regrets for things done, for things undone, for things that we just can’t take back.
I have big feet, but I am not sure if Jesus does. What I am sure of is that there is plenty of room at His feet for all of our regrets. Maybe it is time to lay them there. Don’t worry about the pile getting too big. If Jesus can conquer death, hell, and the grave, He can surely take care of your regrets.
Giving Christ your burdens should be one decision that is easy to make.