Earlier this week, maybe Monday, a friend posted an article chronicling the regrets of those facing death.

Morbid, I know. But also fascinating. And although I’m not anywhere near a deathbed, facing the fragility of life over these past few years has led me to agree with at least one regret populating that list:

Withheld forgiveness and grace.

There will come a time—maybe today, tomorrow or some distant day in the future—when all those grudges you nurse and hurts you can’t shake suddenly appear petty. And your lack of forgiveness nothing but foolish. Oh I’ve been there, and I can tell you it’s just not worth it. Like a disease you can’t wait to shed, you’ll wonder why you hung onto it for so long.

Wednesday, while on a long run, I listened to an Insight For Living podcast. About ten minutes in, preacher Charles Swindoll said the below words. Their profundity struck me such I almost stopped running. I’ve replayed that one-minute selection several times since.

I will not belabor this post. The point isn’t what happens here, but what happens after you finish reading.

Please, please. Let’s do something different. Rather than rushing to judgments, rather searching for flaws and reasons to be disappointed and disillusioned in the failures others, let’s gush compassion. Let’s allow for details we can’t see, for the hidden that might be driving the obvious. Let’s search for the story behind the story and gush fountains of compassion instead.

The beauty of compassion offered? The gift of it comes back around. No one goes to her grave regretting compassion.

“One man says, ‘No man knows the strength of another man’s temptations. The man with the placid and equitable tempermant knows nothing of the temptation of the man whose blood is a fire and whose passions are on a hair trigger … The man brought up in a good home and in Christian surroundings knows nothing of the temptation of the one brought up in slum or in a place where evil stalks abroad. The man blessed with fine parents knows nothing of the temptations of the man who has the load of a bad heredity on his back.

The fact is if we realized what some people have to go through, so far from condemning them we would be amazed they have succeeded in being as good as they are.’

It is amazing, men and women, it is amazing when you just take time in the process of restoring to hear where your brother or sister is coming from. Your compassion gushes.”

—Charles R. Swindoll, “If You’re Serious About Simple Faith, Stop This!” March 31, 2014

Who needs an downpour from you?