Beware a pair of words that have the power to steal your life: If only. Relationship expert Les Parrott asserts, “Once you begin a sentence with if only, you have sealed the deal with regret.”

If only I had sold my stocks last year when I had the chance, I would still have money to retire.

If only I hadn’t been so harsh with my daughter, we might still have a relationship today.

If only I had lost weight when I had only a few pounds to lose, I wouldn’t feel such despair whenever I step onto the scale.

If only I had hit that shot to win the game, I wouldn’t have to live forever as a sports goat.

If only I had not had that abortion, my child would be alive right now and I wouldn’t be wracked with guilt.

If only I had saved a few dollars every week, I would be financially secure right now.

If only I had gone to college instead of getting married so young, I’d be happy today.

If only statements are deadly because they force us to live in a place where we no longer have the opportunity to change our lives: the past. Living in the past yields regret. Living in the future generates worry. While it’s true that God exists in all dimensions of time and space simultaneously – past, present, and future – there’s only moment in which we can relate to God directly. That would be this moment.

People often experience greater despair concerning what they failed to do than what they actually accomplished. This is especially true with regard to children and education. Billy Graham, when asked what he might do differently if he could have another shot at life, admitted that he wished he had gotten more education instead of plunging into ministry, and ached over the unrecoverable hours in which he might have been a better Dad.

But Graham has not let if only’s destroy his life. Healthy people can indeed look back and admit that other paths would have been wiser. But our next steps can only be taken now. Transformation is only possible by seizing the present moment. The Bible couldn’t be clearer: “Now is the time of God’s salvation, now is the day of salvation” (II Corinthians 6:2).

To which I say, “Easier said than done.”

Not long ago I came emotionally unglued when talking to a fellow leader at our church. I was right on a particular issue – I just knew it – and I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to declare my disappointment that my will (and what was obviously common sense) had been thwarted. At one juncture the leader calmly interrupted my rant and said, “Glenn, just take a breath.” But I would have none of that. I was deriving way too much pleasure from my evident rightness.

That is, until the conversation ended. Then I was left alone and feeling utterly foolish. If only I had waited ten more minutes before speaking. If only I had decided to be humble. If only I had taken the wonderful advice that my friend had given to me: Glenn, just take a breath. If only I had stood down, then life would be beautiful, peace would rule on Earth, and the Chicago Cubs would be in the next World Series.

Les Parrott points out that every if only is powered by a pair of lies. The first is that life would somehow be simple and easy if only the past were different. The second is that we must inevitably remain locked up in the prisons of our past actions. In truth we have great power. The power is embodied in our next play: Will we trust God or allow regret to be our master?

Before day’s end I drove to my friend’s house and stood there on the porch. I was greeted with a disarming smile: “I knew you had probably had a terrible day, Glenn, and almost drove over to your place.” Within minutes we shared the gift of reconciliation and began thinking about our next steps forward.

The Australians have it right. Their national emblem features two creatures: the emu and the kangaroo. Besides the continent they share, what do emus and kangaroos have in common? Neither of them can walk backwards.

The past is an impossible place to live. We cannot walk backwards. And God has prepared for us an extraordinary future. But only if we trust him in the present moment, and allow the power of each and every if only to be broken.