“Regrets I’ve had a few, and then, too few to mention” is my memory of a line from the hit song identified with Frank Sinatra, “I Did It My Way”. It’s an anthem for many – live “my” way and no regrets. Vladimir Putin could sing it while riding his horse shirtless and destroying people “his way”, regardless of international norms of behaviour between nations. 

I can still feel the moments when my dad would ask “What were you doing there?”, and it wasn’t good. I’d gulp, try not to look guilty, and stay silent because the only other options were to lie or admit guilt. Never worked.  

I was thinking about our friend Erinn Oxford when I was doing one of my Lenten readings the other morning. She directs The Dale Ministries, a community of those with many disadvantages which has developed into a “church without walls” for all. You will meet her in my next podcast interview in a couple of weeks.  

A friend called the other day and I said he must be psychic because I had thought of calling him the day before.  I continued, “Being the CEO of the Road to Hell Paving Company, I left the paving truck in the garage, instead of phoning.” Good intentions are less than useful unless we do something about them. 

Depending on your cooking skills you can combine Pancake Tuesday with Ash Wednesday in one burnt pancake this week. Blow out and penitence, indulgence and self-denial, champagne, and a bitter cup – lots of polarities in our living on any given day. Some find Lent a helpful discipline for refocusing our inner lives and keeping our compass direction pointed to True North.