Reflection

We sat facing each other on my bed. He spoke slowly and deliberately as if he had rehearsed the words that would break off our three-year relationship. I looked at him as his lips moved and tried to conjure up some feeling but there was nothing. I had said goodbye to him long ago. He was now waiting for me to say something.

"Long-distance relationships are hard," I offered. I had started dating him in 11th grade after a few months of flirting in yearbook class. He graduated a year before me and was promoted to manager of a chain restaurant. After my graduation, I headed off to college -- 2,000 miles away. Distance has a way of separating souls. Forget that bull about making the heart grow fond.

"But it's more than that," he said. "You didn't miss me. You were more excited to see your dog." He was right. I hadn't meant for that to be so obvious. I tried to tell him we were two trains on different tracks, but he just shook his head. The truth was that I didn't want to settle for what he had to offer.

Six years later, I'm thinking about him, knowing that if I'd made a few different choices, my life may have turned out much differently. I turned down his proposal, his stability, and his predictability in favor of the Unknown. Did I take a gamble and lose? Perhaps I would be a housewife in Southern Maryland with two kids and one on the way. Perhaps I'd have a husband who loved me more than life. Perhaps I wouldn't be in a wheelchair. This kind of thinking is dangerous.

Our lives are filled with seemingly insignificant choices that shape our futures. I chose to go out-of-state to college. I chose to climb into that truck with Nate on the morning of my car accident. I chose to buckle the seatbelt. After my accident, I spent a lot of time thinking about the choices I'd made that shaped my condition. It's a waste of time.

Out of every gift I received when I was in the hospital, what I treasure the most is a small card with the following written on it:

I was regretting the past and fearing the future. Suddenly my Lord was saying: "My name is I AM."

"When you live in the past with its mistakes and regrets, I am not there. My name is not I WAS.

"When you live in the future with its fear and uncertainty, I am not there. My name is not I WILL BE.

"When you live in the present, I am here. My name is I AM."

I still think about past choices I've made and I do have regrets (mostly about the ways I've treated people). But I've never regretted making the decision to move away to go to college. A true sign of getting old is when you start throwing out phrases like "I wish I could take what I know now and live parts of my life over." I think that would be nice.

I'm getting old... or maybe I'm just getting wise. :)