Different kind of resolution
Making mistakes. We all do it from time to time, and I'm no exception. But lately, I've been pondering that topic a bit more than usual.
It began with a trip to Wichita and a ruined tire. To make a long story short, I hit a parking lot median and tore two holes in one of my tires. And I was left as the stereotypical female who doesn't know a thing about cars.
Thankfully, my very gracious uncle was home, and he came across town to help me put on the spare tire, even though it was freezing outside and quite a drive from his house.
So I returned home that night with my spare installed, creeping along Interstate 135 and Highway 50 at exactly 48 mph and cursing my own stupidity at not seeing the median before I slammed into it.
I had plenty of time to think during that long drive, and my thoughts were this: Why hadn't I taken the other route back home, up U.S. 77? What would have happened had I made the decision to skip the stop and just go straight home? How could I have made such a stupid mistake?
I guess the answer to my question is one I'm learning every day of my life: I'm a human being, and humans make mistakes.
That's not an easy statement to accept. None of us sets out in life with the intention of messing things up. But sometimes, it happens.
And maybe, instead of beating ourselves senseless with regrets, we should accept the fact that we are fallible. We mess up. Each one of us does.
During my years at college, when things would get overwhelming and I felt like I was drowning in homework and other responsibilities, I'd call home and pour out my woes to Mom. And almost every time, she'd tell me this: "Just do the best you can do. That's all you can do."
It's not enough, I'd protest. It's not that simple. I just can't mess up.
But deep down, I knew she was right. If you have the integrity inside you to know that you're doing your best, before God and your conscience, and yet you still make mistakes, guess what? It happens.
My tendency right now is to jump into the more spiritual aspects of this topic — how as a Christian, I know nothing in my life is truly a mistake, because God is sovereign — but this is a newspaper, not a devotional book.
Suffice it to say, that punctured tire taught me a valuable lesson, even more valuable than the cost of the tire: It's the realization that I'm not perfect and will never be.
In this season of New Year's resolutions, it's a good lesson for all of us.
— JENNIFER WILSON
