The Apology You Never Got

I've been thinking a lot about apologies lately.

Or the lack thereof, I should say.

Why is it that we don't know how to apologize?
I have a friend who tells her children that every time they use the word "but," they immediately negate every word that came before it.

For instance: 

"I'm sorry, but..."
"I love you, but..."

"I fully support you, but..."

You get the drift?

I've had too many conversations in my life with people who have caused me hurt that were full of buts.

There are also those "apologies" which are dripping with passive aggressiveness.  Or victim shaming.

"I know you're hurting. But isn't it time to move on?"
"You're so consumed in your hurt feelings that you aren't able to be supportive of those around you."

"Family/friends are supposed to stick together.  You don't just walk away from people because you're hurt."

Statements like the above make me think that these people have obviously never been hurt by someone else or they would realize how much more damage they are doing with their back-handed or shallow "apologies".

I put "apologies" in quotations because they aren't really apologies.

They're excuses.

I sit and I wonder how much healing the world could encounter if we would just learn how to apologize.

How many hurting hearts could be soothed with a 

Gentle

and 

Sincere

"I'm sorry."

"I apologize.  I know I hurt you.  You are in pain.  And for that I am truly sorry."

Period.

No buts.

No howevers.

No blaming.

Then, as always, 

In my indignation and hurt feelings,

God reminds me:
Hurting people hurt people.

I honestly believe that rarely is it intentional.

We're so consumed in our own hurt most of the time, we don't even come close to realizing the damage we are doing to another.

How much healing could we encounter if we could simply trust God with our hurting hearts and love people the way we want to be loved?

Can I accept the apology I never got?

Is God enough to heal my hurt?

I can no longer point a finger elsewhere and sit in my hurt.

No, I am not going to simply "get over it."

Sometimes, believe it or not, too much damage has been done. 

And to get over hurt truly means to move on.

And I mean, really move on.

I don't mean burn bridges or hold grudges.

You can love people without keeping them in your immediate sphere of influence.

It's ok to let go and press forward.

Good things can come to an end.
And we smile because it happened.

When the apologies don't come and the cycle of hurt continues because we just don't know how to apologize, it really is ok to let go and start fresh elsewhere.

I do get to where I no longer expect certain behavior.

And apologies can be one of the needs that I no longer expect to receive.

So I can turn the tables,

And I can begin with me.

I can give you the apology you never got from me.

I can do some deep reflection.

I can think introspectively.

I can even delete some old blog posts that may have come across wrong.

Because I know, and God surely knows, the damage I have left in my wake more times than I can count.

I can say:  I'm sorry.

I know I am not perfect.

I know I tend to speak before thinking.

Often.

I know the need to walk into certain settings asking God for His arm around my shoulder and His hand over my mouth.

I know I can be impulsive.

And I can make excuses as to why and beg your understanding of my viewpoint.

Yet I won't.

I will simply say, 

I am sorry.

Truly.

No excuses.  No blaming.

If I have caused you pain, I truly and sincerely 

Apologize.

On Grief and Mourning with Those Who Mourn *edited

I have known loss.
Perhaps none as tragic as what happened in Orlando earlier this week.
But I have known loss.  

This is not a political post or a social agenda post or a scripture-wielding post.

This is simply a statement about grief.  And heartache and pain.
And loss.

I have cried and prayed this week so much and my heart and mind keep coming back to the same thought:  Mourning.

By definition to mourn is to express great sadness or sorrow.  Period.

When I faced the greatest loss in my life, the loss of my marriage, I was in the process of grief. And I needed to mourn. I hurt. I ached.  It was a long period of grieving.
And some mourned with me.
But there is nothing in the definition of mourning that says to analyze or to blame.
To mourn is to feel sorrow.
Those who truly mourned with me were not the ones who came to tell me how sorry they were in the midst of their condemnation of me, analysis of why it happened or commentary on my present state with God. And there were many. I've shared before how I had several lay scripture before me, declare me a bad wife, or make sure to let me know how the entire situation was my fault and a series of my own bad choices and I was merely reaping what I had sown.

No, those who mourned with me were the precious few who drew up a chair, put their arms around me, poured me a cup of coffee, or a margarita, and cried with me.  They knew my pain.  All I needed in that moment was someone to grieve my loss with me.
To mourn with me.
In that moment, it didn't matter who did what to whom, who made what decision, or how I got in that state of the big D.  What mattered is that I ached. I hurt.  And I needed someone to hurt with me.

Many, sadly, have a lack of understanding of what it means to mourn with those who mourn. In the wake of the tragedy in Orlando this week, many of my friends have expressed their horror and heartache.  It was horrible. It was wrong. I condemn it. And I sat this morning in my "coffee with Jesus" time and wept openly for my friends and the friends and the families of the victims.

I am disheartened at some religious leaders who struggle to even be able to just simply mourn with the broken and the hurting.  Sympathy mixed with statements regarding the sin of the victims is not mourning.  Judgment shrouds sentiment.  

As someone who has been branded with the Scarlet D, heard "divorcee" lumped with "murderer," "adulterer," "homosexual" in a public forum, been excluded, and judged, I have  learned what it means to mourn with those who mourn. I appreciate beyond words those who stood beside me and loved me when the religious world needed to mark their disapproval of me.

To my friends who are broken-hearted this week over the events in Orlando, I simply want to say this:

I am so sorry for your pain. It was horrible and wrong. I am hurting with you.  Truly.
I will look into the faces of the victims as I see their pictures and hear their names read aloud. I will see beautiful people who lived beautiful lives, loved their families and friends, and who were taken from us too soon in violence.
I will shed tears for the loss. 
I do so as I write this.
Your pain is not forgotten.
I will mourn with you.