My husband likes to refer to me as his, “Personal Google”. I wrote a paper in eleventh grade that my English teacher said she would have published if she was still editing for journals. I am very, very, rational.
I sometimes laugh hysterically at irrational things because they are directly counter to my normal mode of operating.
E.g. Yesterday, We passed a truck and it’s exhaust sounded exactly like a fart. So my brain instantly assumed that the truck had farted. This, sent me into hysterics. It was really funny. Anyone would have laughed if they’d noticed, that’s not a good example…
Regardless, I have a major issue with being hyper rational. It’s how I survived. When the chaos of development is constantly trying to tell you that 2+2=carrot, you tend to cling to what you can call a consistent fact.
Now, people do irrational things and I don’t know how to respond.
The other day, I confronted someone on behavior that was affecting my family in a negative way. I wasn’t the only one to have noticed. They told me that I was wrong. Believe me when I say, before I consider talking to someone about something like that…I make sure I’m not mistaken. Maybe it had been going on for almost six weeks.
I didn’t handle it well that they denied the truth to my face, made crappy excuses, and acted like I was a stamping toddler claiming they were being unfair.
Sobbing, to my husband later, I choked out the words that I have said over and over again these last two years. In every conflict there comes a tearful breakdown wherein I slur, “PLEASE. Tell me I’m wrong. PLEASE.”. Doug will sadly shake is head and tell me, “I can’t.” and it’s always the same; I keep crying and tell him it would be easier if I was wrong, then I could say that I was sorry and it would be over. I’m really practiced at being wrong and saying it.
When it comes to the “sorry how I handled that” apology that seems to be some weird opener for accepting an apology, I don’t buy it. “Sorry you lied and I got upset because I’m not a robot” Nope. Not doing it.
But in the middle of all these half-hearted sorrys and waiting-for-someone-to-say-they-are-wrong, the message is simple:
IT DOESN’T MATTER.
It doesn’t matter if someone is sorry. GOD calls us to forgive, let it go, and let Him figure it out.
People screw up. I screw up. GOD doesn’t.
Being GOD means never having to say you’re sorry! …Unless you want to…for some weird reason.
Is this person going to be my best friend? No. Do I even like them very much? No.
But here and now, I forgive that person. Not because they are sorry. But because I can. Because GOD calls me to.
And because now I feel better.