11/07/2026
There is a certain kind of pain that doesn’t scream, it just whispers, it hides in jokes. It shows up in distractions. It dances in our night outs and hides behind fake smiles. It is the pain of time we cannot get back.
I often find myself thinking, what could I have done with my lost years? I mean the years I spent at Khongoloni Primary School, Phalombe Secondary School, Polytechnic University, Pentecostal Life University, Malawi College of Accountancy, Lilongwe Teachers Training College and Don Bosco, pleasing people I don’t even talk to today. I often find myself thinking, what could I have done with my lost seasons I wasted chasing validation instead of purpose?
I often find myself thinking, what could I have done with my very late nights I gave to impress the wrong crowd and the mornings I woke up with regrets but no direction?
We don’t talk enough about wasted potential not because we don’t feel it but because it’s uncomfortable. And yet, the truth remains, many of us are survivors of time we misused.
In my youth, I thought I had time. Time to dream later, to serve later, to pray later, to study hard later and time to write later. I postponed my purpose to a tomorrow that never came. I traded discipline for momentary pleasure. I buried potential in excuses. I watched opportunities pass while I was waiting for motivation. But time doesn’t wait for us to be ready. It just goes on & it ticks on.
In Luke 15:11–32, Jesus tells a story of a young man who, like many of us, got lost in the illusion of independence. He asked for his inheritance early not realizing that getting something too soon can ruin you. He left home full of energy but empty of wisdom. He wasted everything on wild living, chasing temporary highs in a distant land.
The Bible says, “After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine…and he began to be in need.” He ended up feeding pigs, a picture of how low we can fall when we drift from purpose. But here is the moment that...
