It’s the saving grace of many a childhood game.
It’s the secret wish of every man.
It’s the Do Over.
Tell me you’ve never wished for it. The chance to go back and take the shot, make the investment, show the self-discipline, learn the skill, do the bold and dangerous thing, the “What if?”
Tell me you’ve never wished for it. The chance to go back and not make the mistake, not risk the investment, not hurt the heart, not waste the time, not commit the sin, the “What was I thinking?”
Never? In the words of my mom, “You lie like a rug.”
I see it all the time in my classroom. My students clamor for the opportunity to retake a test that they failed, or make up an assignment that they blew off. They want a Do Over. Because I am the kindest, gentlest, most loving and gracious teacher God ever put in a middle school classroom, I have on occasion allowed for a Do over.
Do you know what I’ve discovered? Yes, you do, because you are not that different from a middle school student, though I’ll admit you have better skin. I have discovered that most students don’t take full advantage of a second chance. They fail to show up on retake day, or they show up and test without having studied. It is almost as though they think that just saying they want to do better is the same as putting in the effort.
Sound familiar? No, I didn’t think so.
We live for the Do Over. It’s why we celebrate New Year’s in the first place. On one day each year, we get the opportunity to wipe the slate clean, to reset our patterns and habits, to start fresh. And every year, we say we say we will do a better job of living our lives.
We say we will work harder and make better choices.
We say we will.
We say it.
Say.
Of course, it’s not called a Say Over. Because we’d be really good at that.
I’m a big fan of the Do Over. God is too, from what I can see. We read that his love and compassion are, “New every morning,” in Lamentations. Paul tells the Corinthians that, “If any man is in Christ he is a new creation. The old is gone; the new is come!” David encourages us, saying that, “As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us” (Psalm 103:12).
That’s my kind of Do Over. So I’m not going to worry about the standard New Year’s resolution—the kind that depends on my strength and my self-discipline. The only way I can keep that kind of promise is to go for something really basic, like, “I resolve to breathe regularly,” or, “I resolve to refrain from eating lungfish.” Those I could handle.
No, I’m going to stick with God’s version of the Do Over, the one in which he creates in me a pure heart, and renews a steadfast spirit, where he restores to me the joy of his salvation, and washes me whiter than snow.
Granted, I still plan to breathe regularly and refrain from eating lungfish.