I'm The Polar Opposite of Moses

You know in the Old Testament when God calls Moses to be the prophet for the Israelites and he kind of freaks out because he considers himself "slow of speech"?  Well, I kind of wish I was a little bit more like Moses that way.

No, I don't want to be a prophet.  Heavens.  Can you imagine the pressure that comes with THAT job?!?  No, I just wish I was a little s l o w e r of speech.  Sadly, I am instead slow of thought while simultaneously being too fast of speech for my own good.

You see, I have tendency to speak first and think later.  Well, this weekend I had another one of those "open mouth--insert foot" experiences that I was kind of hoping were becoming less frequent, but I was wrong.  Again.

I work with three of the most wonderful women ever in our Stake Young Women's presidency.  We have been together long enough to know what the other 'meant to say' when it doesn't come out right--or when it comes out (of me) down right wrong and, for the most part, these ladies overlook my stupidity with kindness and a little chuckle.

Well, I said something flippant and off the cuff without thinking it all the way through after our last YW volleyball day Saturday morning--status quo, at this point, right?  But later that afternoon, I texted one of these dear friends and asked if she'd like to go to the Relief Society broadcast with me and she texted back that she wouldn't be good company.  Something in the way she worded her response made me remember not only what I had said earlier but how I said it and it dawned on me--several hours too late to stop myself from saying it, of course--that what I had said may have hurt her feelings and perhaps that is why she didn't want to go.

Holy Cow.

I grabbed another friend from our presidency went to the dinner prior to the broadcast our stake hosts anyway.  No more than 30 minutes after sitting down, I felt like the worst find of friend ever.  I keenly felt the prompting to go to her home and ask her forgiveness.  I sat through  the broadcast--which in my forcibly humbled state was wonderful--and wept at the message of each speaker shared.  Not to mention the stories and photos referring to a youth trek!  I was the water works, in full form.  But the feeling to go ask for forgiveness was a steady pounding in my heart.

As soon as I dropped off my dear friend that did take me up on the offer to go together, I stopped at the home of my friend I was so worried I had wounded.  It was after 8:30 PM and knowing she was an early to bed kid of girl, hesitated a minute before screwing up my courage and knocking on her door.

It took her a minute to answer because, as I was sure she would be, she was in her pajamas and darn near ready for bed.  She opened the door and immediate could read the shame on my face and graciously invited me in.  I started to ask her to please forgive me for being insensitive and thoughtless and as un-Christlike as I ever had been.  And I, of course, burst into tears. 

We walked to her living room and sat on her couch where I told her that I had no intention of hurting her with anything I say, much less the thoughtless, stupid things.  She caught me and told me that she wasn't offended or hurt and actually thought my comment--though inappropriate (another one of my natural-man "qualities") was kind of funny.  Her not going with me that night had nothing to do with my comment but more to her feeling bummed out and like she wouldn't be good company to me.

Much weeping ensued.  Hugs and "I love you"s were exchanged. The rift (whether real of imaginary) was healed. And much solace was given to my heart.  She knew just what I needed to hear.  And I am so glad I listened to the prompting, even if the offense was never taken by her. 

I learn this lesson over and over again.  But someday I hope it really sticks. 

Yet, it's be so much easier to deal with Moses' issues.  Well, just the one.  Maybe.

Back To It

The kids are back to school after the week off for Spring Break. Genius Golfer only took a couple of days off, but the Master's Tournament was this weekend, so there was a lot of TV time around here. Now he is back to work too.

For me, I feel like I have a lot to digest.

Between General Conference last weekend, and our Stake Conference this weekend I heard so many messages of instruction, of direction, of inspiration. Plus, I was prompted to do something that I wasn't planning on for a while yet.

As I sat and listened to a beautiful talk yesterday about families who have had a love one stray from the Gospel, there was a sense--for me, at least--that I have to forgive my sister's ex-husband.

I am not ready to do that. My heart is still bitter and every time I talk to her I get riled up again. I really dislike him--in the strongest way. I would hope that I don't "hate" him at this point, but it is pretty close. I have softened a little and I feel sorry for him, I even pity his pathetic life.

See, I am a long way from being forgiving.

I have watched him get away with seemingly everything. He has been three years in court battles with my sister about their boys and the custody arrangements. He has chosen to not work in order to not have to pay child support--though, for the record he didn't work much even when they were married. He has tried every chance he gets to poison my nephews again not only their mom, but my family--their grandparents and us.

I know that every story has two sides, and I truthfully have only heard the one side. But I don't believe anything he says. I have seen him lie in court to the commissioner who is overseeing their custody situation. He doesn't pay his debts. He feel entitled and acts as if he is some kind of Golden Boy. He is arrogant and narcissistic. And yet he still seems to get his way, at the cost of their boys and my sister.

I like to think what we put out into the world will eventually come back to us, in a way, like karma. But so far, he is beating the karmic odds.

But yesterday I got the distinct impression that I cannot progress much further without forgiving him. I know that holding a grudge is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die from it. But knowing that, and doing something about it are two different things.

Forgiveness is very hard. To me, with this particular situation, I had wanted to see some justice first, then I could forgive. But perhaps, I am keeping the justice at bay while I harbor this grudge and withhold this forgiveness.

But I still don't want to do it. It will take a long time. And I rather enjoy the times my sister calls and we can berate him verbally to one another. But I know that isn't helping her or her boys. And it probably isn't helping me either. And I know what I have been told, and that forgiving is necessary.

It is going to be a process, I believe. A long, difficult procress.