It only takes a few seconds to hurt someone. But sometimes it takes years to repair the damage. Cherish the hearts that you love. This was on a friend’s Facebook post this morning. And it has been on my mind all day. Isn’t it funny what a few seconds can do. Years ago, let’s see, I must have been about 20ish. I used a few seconds to hurt someone. My father had died the previous year. I was still living at home with my mother and grandmother. My mother was working full time and taking care of not only me, but my aging grandmother as well. She had her plate full. She was grieving. Navigating through and balancing all the things that a new widow faces. Her world had turned upside down. She had lost her husband. Her love. There were medical bills to take care of. There were household bills to take care of. There was an empty bed to lie in at night. She was taking care of my grandmother. She was trying her very best to do the best that she could. I, on the other hand, was embarking on a new life. I was engaged to be married. I had my whole life ahead of me. I was busy thinking about and planning a wedding. I was working. And although I grieved the loss of my father, I was looking forward to what lied ahead. One night, my mother was going to meet me after we both got off work. I was looking at a dress and she was supposed to bring something with her that was supposed to go with it. When we met up, I asked her where the item was. Her eyes got big as she realized she had forgotten it. I was angry. Whatever it was, it was important for what I was looking at. I remember being mad and saying to my mother something to the effect of if had been for Babba (what I called my grandmother) you wouldn’t have forgotten it! I knew how piercing those words would be even before they left my lips. I said those words and my mom’s eyes grew wide. She responded that she was sorry and she offered for us to try to get together to do this again. I’m sure I continued to rant and rave knowing that each word would pierce her more. And I’m sure, that a part of her….was broken…that night. Many years later I would find myself calling my mother. Broken in heart and spirit, God would bring things to mind and I would call my mother, sobbing, retelling an incident and asking for forgiveness. On those occasions she would respond, that I had only been a child, and she had forgiven…and forgotten the event. This scene replayed countless times over many years. But I had not thought about this particular incident until today. I have by no means been a perfect friend…spouse…or mother though the years. I have made more mistakes than I care to remember. There have been many times that I know my words…my actions…. maybe even my lack of…. have broken those I love the very most. As I have gotten older, not only have I been on the breaking end, I have also found myself on the broken end. When others’ words and actions or lack of, have cut so sharply and so deep. Times when I, like I’m sure my mother, found it hard to take the next breath…the next step…face the next day. I have apologized for things I have done. In brokenness, I have asked for forgiveness, and I have tried to let God lead me and grow me into the person He originally created me to be. I have tried to restore and repair trust…and relationships. I try to make a conscious effort to be a blessing to all those God brings me to. Truly, by God’s grace and gentle hand, I am not the person I was years ago….I am a new creation. My biggest hope when I go to be with the Lord, is that all my failures and shortcomings will be forgiven and forgotten and the words from my family and friends will be ….she loved me. Funny how a Facebook post can bring something to mind…and to heart.
Posted on: Fri, 23 Aug 2013 04:49:49 +0000
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