Welcome back. I am glad you are here today because in today's episode, we are going to talk about regret we carry and the grace we need. Now, I looked up the meaning of regret, and Cambridge Dictionary defines it as a feeling of sadness about something sad. Or wrong, or about a mistake that you have made and a wish that it could have been different and better. If you are listening to this episode, there is a good chance that you are carrying something quietly in your heart. It could be something. You don't announce or something you don't often talk about, but it is something that visits you in still moments. It could be a moment from years ago that still comes back to you when things slows down. Maybe it's a decision you made as a parent then that you would handle differently now. Maybe it is worse. You wish you had chosen more carefully or worse. You wish you had never spoken at all. Maybe it's a season when you were stretch thin, you were tired and overwhelmed. Maybe a season you were trying to hold everything together while meeting everyone else's needs. Maybe there were moments you wish you had been more patient. Times you wish you had listened instead of reacting times you wish you had. Pause instead of pushing through. The list can carry on and on because you know what? We all have moments like that. And often these things don't trouble us when our life is loud and busy. But these moments sometimes retain when life becomes quieter, when responsibility shift, when our children grow up, when there is finally space to reflect. It is funny how those moments don't usually come shouting. They come gently and persistently asking us to be acknowledged. So I want to begin to today by saying this clearly and kindly, those thoughts that comes to you doesn't mean you failed. They mean you've grown. You can see more noun than you could then Why? Because your heart has softened and wisdom has formed often through experiences that were demanding. You know, sometimes there are. Complex and sometimes painful in today's episode. We are not here to judge the past. We are not here to reopen wounds or assign any blame. We are here only to reflect and allow grace to meet as gently without judgment. I was visiting a friend not long ago. Her grown daughter had come to see her for the first time in almost three and a half years, even though they live about 25 miles apart. As we sat together, I could sense tension in the room. I noticed everyone was choosing their words slowly, I was feeling a little bit uncomfortable. Then my friend looked at her daughter and said, princess, I didn't always get it right. I didn't always know how to love you the way you need it. Those simple and honest words did something beautiful because in that moment, my friend wasn't defending herself. She wasn't explaining herself, she wasn't blaming anyone, she was just being honest. Her daughter stood up and walked towards her. They hugged and there were tears in both of their eyes. Not because her mother was perfect, but because she was humble, open, and willing to grow. And that moment stayed with me and it reminds me why today's episode matters so much. Regress we carry and the grace we need. And I want to say this gently, regret doesn't mean you failed. Regret means you've lived long enough to see more clearly. As grandparents, we often see life with clearer eyes. Time has softened us. Experience has matured us, faith has deepened within us. There was a time when everything felt urgent, when decisions had to be made. Quickly and responsibility pressed heavily on our shoulders because we were raising children. We were working jobs, maybe two or more, serving in our communities, managing households, surviving seasons we didn't have language for. There wasn't enough time to reflect. There wasn't always space to pause and ask, what does this child need right now, but with time? Something changes. We begin to respond rather than react. We listen more, we judge less, we understand more, and yet wisdom often arrives, carrying memories, memories of moments we wish we had handled. Differently. Worse, we wish we had chosen more carefully. Decisions we made whilst we were tired, afraid, stress or grieving. Sometimes those memories feel heavy and they feel like regret. But hear me right now, regrets doesn't mean you failed. It means you cared. Your heart was involved and love mattered to you. I want you to understand that this season of life is not about reopening wounds. It's about allowing grace to meet us right where we are. Today I want to share a very personal story with you not to dwell in the past, not to assign any blame or to stir up any guilt, but I'm sharing this to show how Grace gently finds us, even in places shaped by loss. Pain and unanswered grief. I love this quote and I want to quote it, which is, what time reveals Grace Restores? What time reveals Grace Restores? This story lives right in the middle where regrets and grace meet English is my second language. When I had my first two children, I spoke my dialect with them at home. For the first six years of their lives, that language filled our home. It filled our conversations, our discipline, our laughter, our praise. It was something that was natural. It was culture. It was connection. I didn't have to analyze it. I didn't have to overlook it. I didn't have to overthink it. I simply pass on what had been given to me. Then when I had my third child, something happened that changed me deeply. My mother came to visit us for a short time. It was an ordinary visit. Nothing unusual after she returned home. She passed away unexpectedly. Just few moms later. I was grieving not only as a daughter, but as a woman, still raising young children. I was still attending various meetings. I was still showing up. I was still functioning. I was trying to hold myself together. I have come to realize that grief doesn't always look like tears. Sometimes it looks like survival In my grief. I made a decision, not a loud one, not a dramatic one, but a quiet one. I stopped speaking my dialect. I chose to speak only English at home. At the time, I didn't fully understand what I was doing. Grief sometimes has a way of narrowing your vision. My dialect reminded me of my mother, her voice, her warmth, her presence. So speaking. It felt too painful. So I avoided it, and as a result, my first two children still understands my dialect, but my third child does not understand it at all sometimes, and I will be honest, I get asked about this and sometimes the question comes with judgment. Why didn't you teach him your dialect? And yes, I regret that, but not because I was a bad mother. I regret it because now I know that grief made a decision for me at the time when I didn't have the strength or clarity to see beyond the pain. I know now that grief was speaking then, not to wisdom. Grief was leading not intention. It is important to note that regret does not always come from carelessness. Sometimes it comes from wounds, but here is the part of the story I really want you to hear. The story didn't end there recently, something very tender happened. My son came to me and said that for his Christmas gift to me. He wanted to begin learning my dialect. Hallelujah. I didn't ask him. I didn't pressure him. It came from my heart. He has now started taking lessons and whenever time allows, I sit with him and learn alongside him. Yes, it looks different from how it might have been years ago. Yes, it doesn't sound the same, and I know it doesn't carry the same childhood memories, but hey, it is still beautiful and it reminds me of this truth. It is not always too late. What grief interrupted love is now repairing. So the question here is, what does regret really teach us? Many of us carry regrets, not loud regrets and not the kind we speak about easily too. But quiet ones. The ones that surface when life slows down. The ones that appear in quiet moments, and here is the truth I've learned with time. Most regrets. Were not born from cruelty. They were born from absorption, from grief, from fear, from survival, from lack of knowledge, from doing the absolute best we could with what we had at the time. Few of us ever set out to hurt the people we love. Very few of us made decisions hoping they would cause pain. Most of us were simply trying to get through the day, trying to hold everything together, trying not to fall apart. And yet years later, we judge our younger selves with today's wisdom. We forget something important, that wisdom didn't arrive first. It was end. The wisdom we have now was shaped by sleepless nights, by mistakes, by losses, by moments we didn't know how to handle. The very experiences we regret are the ones that taught us what we know now. So as mentioned earlier, regress doesn't mean we fail. It means we matured. It means life taught us. It means our heart softened. And you know something, maturity is not something to be ashamed of. God does not waste maturity. He doesn't waste tears. He doesn't waste reflection. He doesn't waste growth. But something good that God does. God redeems it. He redeems it. This season of our life is not about punishing ourselves for what we didn't know. Then it's about allowing what we know now to shape how we love our grandchildren today. If you are just joining me. This is grandparenting with heart and we are talking about regress we carry, and the grace we need. We are talking about grandparenting with heart, with love, with wisdom, and not pressure. Let's take a breath together and continue. I have come to realize something powerful about grace. Grace serves as a bridge. Grace serves us a bridge. It doesn't erase the past. It doesn't pretend it didn't happen, and it doesn't also rewrite history. But what Grace does is to transform. Yes, grace transforms. It looks back with compassion, not accusation. Grace. Looks forward with hope. No fear. Grace allows repair without shame. We must realize that as grandparents, we don't just pass down stories, we pass down how we handle mistakes. Our grandchildren. They are watching not only how we celebrate success, but how we respond when things don't go as planned. The thing here is when we show our grandchildren that mistakes can be acknowledged, that growth is possible. That healing can happen later. We give them something special. We give them permission. Permission to learn. Permission to try again. Permission to live without fear of getting everything right the first time. Your grandchildren don't need you to fix yesterday. They need you to love today. And you know, the amazing thing is Grace gives you and I permission, permission to get it right this time, not by being perfect, but by being present. Let me ask you something gently, you don't need to answer out loud. Is there a decision from your parenting years? You still carry quietly. Is there a moment, grief, stress, or fear made for you? Have you been harsher with your younger self? What would it look like to offer yourself the same grace you offer others? There is a verse that reminds me of this truth. He knows we are dust. God understands our limitations more than we do. If God gives you mercy, you are allowed to give yourself mercy too. As we come to the end of this conversation, I want to leave you with a few gentle invitations, not tasks, not pressure. The first thing to do. Name whatever it is you regret. Without shame. Secondly, look for repair, not reversal. And finally, you need to whisper forgiveness to yourself. Tell yourself I was learning. I didn't know better then, but I can do better now. Small steps, build big bridges. We are coming to the end of today's episode. If you are listening with a heavy heart today, hear this clearly. You are not disqualified by your regrets. You are qualified by your growth. You are not too late. You have not missed your moment. Remember this, God is not asking you to rewrite your past. He's inviting you to redeem your past and that R there is more than enough. Let me close with this prayer. Lord, thank you for meeting us in our memories with compassion and not condemnation. Thank you for your grace that covers what we wish we had known sooner. Lord, help us look back with kindness and move forward with courage. May our grandchildren inherit not perfection, but grace. In Jesus' name, amen. Thank you for listening to Grandparenting with Heart. If this episode spoke to you, share it with another grandparent who needs hope. I want you to take a moment, breathe, be gentle to yourself. In our next episode, we will talk about healing old wounds with your adult children. Until then, remember this, you are not defined by what you didn't know. You are defined by the love you choose now. See you next time.