Willie and Me
And I could cry for the time I’ve wasted
But that’s a waste of time and tears,
And I know just what I’d change
If I went back in time somehow
But there’s nothing I can do about it now
—Willie Nelson, There’s Nothing I Can Do About It Now
I’m drawn to this Willie Nelson song because the lyrics are pretty personal. My life carries its share of wasted time—sleepless nights, unfulfilled dreams, and choices I wish I could take back. Like many, I’ve looked back regretfully, thinking, “If only I could undo that.” But as Willie puts it, there’s nothing I can do about it now.
Regret is a universal experience. Some respond with resigned nihilism—“Life is meaningless anyway.” Others are so overwhelmed by guilt and shame that they become emotionally and spiritually paralyzed. The past haunts them, the present feels heavy and hollow, and the future feels without promise.
Willie is right in one sense: we can’t undo the past. But that doesn’t mean we’re without hope. That’s where the Gospel pierces the hopelessness of regret.
The Apostle Paul understood regret. Before Jesus stopped him on the road to Damascus, Paul was a self-righteous persecutor of the Christian church. He stood by approvingly as Stephen was stoned (Acts 7:54–8:3). He placed his hope in the rituals of legalism rather than the grace of God (Philippians 3:1–10). And yet, Paul could write near the end of his life: The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance: that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the foremost (1 Timothy 1:15).
Paul didn’t ignore his past, but he didn’t let it define him either. He knew that Jesus saved him, not because of who he was but despite who he was. That same grace is available to us, no matter our past, present, or future failures. It’s a grace that not only forgives but transforms—training us to renounce ungodliness and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age (Titus 2:11–12).
Here’s the good news: Jesus came precisely because there’s nothing we can do about our sins. He lived the perfect life we fail to live. He died the death we deserve to die. He rose again to secure a new life for all united to Him by faith. Salvation is not about making up for lost time. It’s about being found in Christ—not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ (Philippians 3:9)—justified freely by grace, adopted as sons and daughters, and empowered by the Spirit to walk in the newness of life.
When we look back on our regrets, we don’t deny their reality—but we no longer live under their rule. The Gospel doesn’t erase the past; it redefines it. Our story is no longer one of failure and shame but of redemption and grace. What once condemned us now becomes the backdrop against which the grace and mercy of God shine even more brightly.
So yes, there’s nothing I can do about it now—and I’m thankful for that. Jesus has done it all. His finished work is enough. His grace is greater than all our sins. And His patience with us is not proof of weakness but a display of His glory.
But I received mercy for this reason, that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display His perfect patience as an example to those who were to believe in Him for eternal life. To the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever. Amen (1 Timothy 1:16–17).
*Scripture quotations are from The ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.
