Wednesday, October 10, 2012

A Defensive Lament

I was recently told that I embarrassed myself. I didn't know that I had embarrassed myself, but I did and was graciously told what I did. I did it too, guilty as charged!

It's true, you can take a boy out of managing a bar, have him work in higher education for ten years, send him to seminary for over three, and put him in the pulpit for seven more years and when the $#it hits the fan, well, you get the point.

It's been a tough few months here at Chez Paul et Marie. A couple of weekends ago it got to me and I dropped a few "F" bombs in places they did not need dropping. The biggest problem with people who "overhear" stuff is that context is invariably lost. I was in a bad place personally, I was asked to share, and I did so with a strafing motion. It was all directed at myself (which isn't particularly healthy, but that's for another post), but when folks overhear and all they see is the bomb, they don't know how or why it's falling.

I confess my sin and I thank the person who shared it with me. I will also add that once the grapevine reported to her she told me. I honor her for that because it wasn't easy, she told me so. She did what others would not, she told me.

So, what did she do right?

  • She came to me calmly.
  • She told me what's what.
  • She came in care and concern and love and honor and respect not just for me but for the people who shared with her.

What could I say but thank you?

I lament and I regret my potty mouth. That's a fact. The bad news is this is as close to a direct apology I can make because I don't know who's talking about me behind my back. Is this the "defensive" part? Maybe. Have I got more? Yes, but that's just me trying to get my camel through the eye of the needle.

All I can ask now is that you forgive me

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