Daily Scribbles :: Regret

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Inspiration: A shameful memory.


I.

When I first started college, I naively thought I wouldn't allow "the world" to change me. I was going to change the world. I was going to bleed Christ's love all over everyone I met. 

I had never been kissed, never smoked a cigarette and never had a beer. 

College was eye-opening.

It only took a few days for me to realize I was just a girl among men and women. Perhaps "girl" is too generous of a label. I was practically from another planet.

My suite-mates were kind to me, but I felt my "otherness" showing. I wanted to bleed Christ's love all over everyone, but I also wanted to be liked. I didn't want to stick out so much.

Can you imagine my surprise when a boy showed interest? I couldn't believe my good fortune!

His name was Mark. He was charming and funny and cute, and I could not believe he was paying any attention to me. I was in college! A boy was talking to me! He thought I was funny! I was giddy from the attention, but the must-change-the-world-through-love programming could not be overridden. Was he a Christian? I didn't know yet. I was pretty green about boy-girl interactions, but I had enough sense to know that there were a few things you didn't talk about on the first date (or the first few dates, for that matter):

• Marriage
• How many kids you want to have
• Ex-boyfriends

I assumed that personal beliefs fell somewhere on that list, though I wasn't sure where. I knew we would talk about it eventually.

It came too soon for me.

We were on our way to a concert on-campus when he asked if we could stop by his room. While we were there, he asked if I wanted anything to drink. I politely declined. He said, "Don't be shy, Lina--honestly, I have plenty. You're welcome to whatever I have." I told him I didn't drink. He said, "Oh. Do you mind if I do?" I told him I didn't. But I was secretly disappointed. This beautiful man drank alcohol? I felt as though he told me he killed puppies for a living. 

Let me explain.

I was raised to believe that certain things were unquestionably wrong. For example, killing another person. The bible says no, and the law says no. I also believed that there was another list of things you didn't do if you loved God. I like to call this list, "Lifestyle Choices for People Who Love God". If you love God, you wouldn't do these things:

• Drink alcohol
• Smoke cigarettes
• Get tattooed 
• Get extraneous body piercings
• Have sex before marriage

(Disclaimer: I am not claiming that this list is Truth. This is just what I believed.)

I actually thought that doing any of the things on this list was bad, like really bad. Not quite up there with murder, but people who loved God didn't do these things. 

Back to Mark.

He could tell something was bothering me and was concerned and attentive. I was sweating profusely. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't have to. He guessed.

Mark: Does it bother you that I drink?

Me: *nodding dumbly*

Mark: Why does it bother you? Does it offend you? If it offends you, I won't drink around you, or when we're going to hang out.

Me: *looking at my feet and hating him for being so nice*

Mark: Could you please say something?

Me: You don't have to not-drink when I'm around.

Mark: Oh, but it bothers you.

Me: Well, yeah. It's bad.

Mark: Why does it bother you? Is it because of your beliefs?

Me: Yeah. Why do you drink? It's bad for you.

Mark: I like it. It's fun. I really enjoy it.

Me:  I don't think we should hang out anymore.

Mark: What? Why? Because I drink and you don't?

Me: *nodding and avoiding his gaze*

Mark: Well, let me try to understand where you're coming from, because to be honest, I don't see how me drinking alcohol should get in the way of us hanging out. 

Me: Okay.

Mark: Let's say I like artichokes. And I really like artichokes, but you don't. Would that stop you from hanging out with me?

Me: Well no, but that's different.

Mark: How is it different?

Me: Artichokes don't hurt people.

Even after 10 years, I am still terribly embarrassed at how that conversation went. Mark was gracious and kind. He didn't understand me but respected my decision. I really believed that I shouldn't hang out with him--even if we were just friends--because he did things I didn't think were right. And instead of loving him and respecting his lifestyle choice, I decided we couldn't be each others lives.

I was wrong. I was naive. 

I perverted my desire to spread Christ's love by judging people and alienating them. Jesus hung out with hookers and cheats. He didn't treat them differently even though they were doing things He didn't agree with. He just accepted them. I blew my first real chance to show love to someone who didn't know Jesus. 

Instead, I just judged him.

II.

I saw Mark occasionally around campus while I was at UCSD, but I never mustered up the courage to apologize for being judgmental. And hypocritical. And the opposite of loving. I wanted to run up to him and say, "I'm so sorry, Mark. That was totally lame and judgmental of me." But I was ashamed. I also imagined myself running up to him and saying, "Mark! I drink alcohol now!", but I didn't think it would suffice as an apology.

I regret that I missed the opportunity to be friends with a really nice person, to show Christ's love to him simply because God made him. Period. It makes me sad that the only memory he really has of me is telling him we couldn't be friends because he did something I didn't agree with.

Because at the end of the day, who am I to judge him?

III.

I abandoned the list of don'ts a long time ago. It's formulaic. God isn't. I think ditching the list is one of the reasons I'm much better at loving people now. I stopped having ideals about who to love and what it should look like. Instead of seeing what makes us different, God helps me see everything that makes us the same--what makes us human.

IV. 

Mark,

Thanks for loving me where I was at. It was supposed to be the other way around. Sorry I didn't figure it out till it was too late. I regret it.

V.

Have you ever tried to show Christ's love only to fail miserably? Regrets are personal so if you don't want to share, please don't feel pressured. But if you want to share, I'd love to hear from you.