Retreat Thoughts, day 3

Less than a mile from the retreat center where I have currently squirreled myself away from the busy-ness of daily life is the condo where I spent four months of my life before moving to Chattanooga.  Upon moving in, it was a grand escape, especially considering the situation which we had fled.  It was at the end of a street packed with stately houses lining the Chatahoochie River.  The verdant setting all but demanded a relaxing respite from the hectic job search in which I was immersed.

Of course, life had other ideas. 

Not long after we moved in, the man whose rims had been stolen was shooting at the car containing the chief suspects.  All of this took place at 5:00 in the evening, surprising both Rachel and I.  As we lay on the floor of our condo, uncertain exactly as how best to react to such a situation, the situation changed.  We no longer felt safe in our condo. 

Other things also proved to be a disappointment.  The weight room ended up being a ramshackle assortment of broken and dated machines, few of which were any good for exercise.  The days dragged on, despite my consistent raiding of the nearby library.  Boredom overtook me.

We constantly wondered what was behind the sign for the retreat center, but curiosity never carried me far enough to venture past the sign.  Had I done so, I would have discovered a lovely chapel and a serene setting where I could have passed the days in quiet retreat. 

My first thought upon arriving here this weekend was disappointment that I had not discovered this place.  I found that emotion odd, but common.  There is nothing I could do to change the past.  Those four months took place almost 6 years ago, and fretting over it now is hardly useful.  And yet that was my first reaction.

How much energy do I invest in wondering about the past, how things might have been different if only...?  How much time have I wasted wondering about what might have been, when that energy would be far better spent peering over the next horizon to see what God has in store or, better yet, paying attention to what God is doing here and now, that I might not look back with regret on time wasted or chances lost.