Second guesses, second chances

I was sitting in chapel this past Thursday listening to Gordon Dalbey talk about the relationship between fathers and daughters.  I am a father of daughters.  I was that dad who met the guy at the door asking him what his expectations were with my little girl, letting him know that regardless of what she may tell him, what I say was all that mattered.  I was the dad making my daughter change “that” skirt before she left the house.  I was also the dad that gasped the first time I saw my little girl trying on the dress she would wear to prom.  I was the dad enjoying watching my now son-in-law, squirming as he sat across the desk in my office struggling to find the courage to ask for my daughter’s hand in marriage.  I was the dad that cried before both of my daughters’ weddings.  I was also the dad, sitting in chapel last week, second guessing some of the ways I had treated my little girls. 

I remember the time I got caught in a lie.  I remember the time I put my daughter’s shoes on the wrong feet.  I remember the times I lost my temper.  I remember how upset my daughter was with me when I couldn’t get those ponytails just right.  I remember the times I had to ask forgiveness.

I suppose I could second guess the decisions I made with my daughters until the cows come home; sorry, dated myself with that one, and I still can’t tie ponytails (thankful for grandsons!).  But I could spend the rest of my life wondering, wishing, and second guessing.  Remember the last scene in Saving Private Ryan? The now older Private Ryan finds himself standing at Captain Miller’s grave asking his wife if he has lived a good life, wondering in that moment if he was worth the lives sacrificed to take him home.  I’ve had moments like that.  As a matter of fact, I came home last Thursday and asked my wife if our girls know how much I love them.  Ever been there? Wondering, wishing, second guessing — it can be a terrible place to be, and I don’t want to stay there.

Next week is Ash Wednesday, signaling the beginning of the season known as Lent — the time on the Christian calendar when we begin our journey to the cross, ending on that hopeful day we call Easter.  It’s an opportunity for us to take a journey together.  It’s a time when wishing, wondering, and second guessing can be replaced by second chances.

                                                                                                      

Honestly, too often we make Lent about giving up chocolate, Facebook, or caffeine (God forbid).  Lent is intended to be so much more.  It could possibly change the direction of our lives.  It could possibly give us a clearer picture of who God is.  It could possibly give us a clearer picture of who we are, and what we are called to do with our lives.  My prayer for all of us this year as we move together from ashes to Easter is that with God’s help, we move from second guessing to second chances.