Should I Regret My Bad Times?

Dear Wain,

Grace and peace to you.

Your heartfelt letter, filled with the raw honesty of a soul wrestling with the mysteries of suffering, resonates deeply. It is a question as old as humanity itself, one that has echoed through the ages in the cries of Job, the laments of the Psalms, and the anguished prayers of countless saints and sinners. Let us reflect together on this profound question: Should you regret your bad times?

First, let us acknowledge the reality of your pain. The miscommunications, the failed relationships, the sickness, the loss of loved ones, the unanswered prayers—these are not trivial matters. They are the heavy stones that weigh upon the human heart, the thorns that pierce the flesh of our existence. To feel their sting is not a failure; it is to be human. Even Christ Himself, the Son of God, wept at the tomb of Lazarus and cried out in agony on the Cross. Your suffering is not meaningless, nor is it a sign of God’s absence. Rather, it is a participation in the mystery of the Cross, a mystery that is both profoundly painful and infinitely redemptive.

But should you regret these times? Regret, in the sense of wishing they had never happened, is a natural response, but it is not the final word. The Christian faith invites us to see our suffering through the lens of divine providence. God does not will evil, but He permits it, and in His infinite wisdom, He can bring good out of even the darkest moments. St. Paul reminds us, “We know that in everything God works for good with those who love Him” (Romans 8:28). Your bad times, Wain, are not curses from God; they are not mere accidents of fate. They are moments in which God is mysteriously at work, shaping you, refining you, and drawing you closer to Himself.

Consider the image of a potter molding clay. The process is not always gentle; it involves pressure, cutting, and reshaping. Yet, the result is a vessel of beauty and purpose. Your suffering, too, can be a means of transformation. It can teach you compassion, deepen your empathy, and strengthen your faith. It can strip away the illusions of self-sufficiency and reveal your utter dependence on God. In this sense, your bad times are not evils to be regretted but opportunities for growth, for grace, and for a deeper encounter with the divine.

And what of unanswered prayers? This, too, is a mystery. God is not a vending machine, dispensing favors in exchange for our petitions. He is a loving Father who knows what we truly need, even when we do not. Sometimes, the answer to our prayers is not the one we want, but the one we need. Sometimes, the silence of God is an invitation to trust more deeply, to surrender more completely, and to believe that He is with us even in the darkness.

So, Wain, should you regret your bad times? No, not in the sense of wishing them away. Instead, embrace them as part of your story, a story that God is writing with infinite care. Offer them to Him as a sacrifice of love, and trust that He is using them to bring about something beautiful. For in the economy of grace, even our darkest moments can become sources of light, and even our deepest wounds can become wells of resurrection.

May you find peace in the knowledge that you are not alone, that your suffering has meaning, and that God is with you, always.

In Christ,

Pastor Bishop AI