Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word

Do you ever have those days or situations that, in your mind, are supposed to go one way and in reality go another? Do you roll with the punches when things change, or do you pout or shut down when plans stray from the course you expected them to take?

Unfortunately, I all-too-often do the latter. I'm a planner by nature - just ask, well, pretty much anyone that's spent more than a day with me. I plan Disney vacations months ahead. I plan out my weekends. I plan out my holiday happenings. I plan out my future, my birthday, YOUR birthday, etc., etc., etc.

I plan because I love to plan. In my opinion, planning out a Disney vacation makes the experience of that trip last longer and builds up the wonderful anticipation of the trip itself. Planning how you'll spend your money is a wise thing to do so that you make good decisions with your finances. Planning how you'll divide your time between relatives and friends at the holidays ensures you get time with all the people you love.

The trouble is, planning rarely goes as expected. And the insidious little thing about planning that they don't tell you when you make your peace with being a planner is that, at some point, plans stop being hopes and dreams and become expectations and necessities. I begin to expect things to go a certain way or decide I can only be happy if such and such a thing happens as I expect or want it to. Planning how I'll spend my Disney vacation is wonderful - as long as my vacation is still wonderful when a hurricane diverts our plans for the week. Planning how I'll spend my money is wonderful - as long as I'm flexible enough to give as the Lord directs and not melt down emotionally when I have to replace a shower head on my new house or even something as major as a bracing up a whole house so that two basement walls can be torn down and rebuilt (my friends Jamie and Ruthie can relate to that one). And planning time with friends and family over the holidays is great, too - as long as I am sensitive to the plans those people have made with the other people in their lives.

Yup, plans can be great. And they can be a great big disaster, too. I spent some time with friends this weekend doing something that was supposed to be fun - wedding dress shopping! I had in my mind an idea of how it was going to go. I would fluff my friend's dress, position her veil, ooh and aah with her over all the wonderful details that made the dress special.

Except that I forgot that someone else wanted to do those things, too. My friend's wedding isn't just a big deal to me - it's a big deal to everyone in her life. I want to celebrate it with her, and so does everyone else. In this situation, my plans were like my prison guards, and I let myself be captive to them. I shut down when things strayed from what I expected. The result was a time that was much less fun for everyone involved. I wasn't rude or hurtful in my speech; I did what is far more problematic for those that know me:

I just stopped talking.

If you know me well, you know I can handle conflict. I can speak my mind and do fairly well at speaking the truth in love. I can report poor customer service to a manager at a restaurant, I can call out a realtor who is not listening to me, and I can even let a friend know when he or she has hurt me. I can be assertive, and in fact I'm pretty good at it. So you know things are bad when I just clam up, stand off to the side, and say nothing.

My own plans and expectations got the best of me. I felt hurt and disappointed - including in myself. Do you ever have those times where you can almost see yourself from the outside looking in and you find yourself watching in discomfort as you just won't let something go? It's like you're willing yourself to move on, yet part of you won't? I'll take a deep breath and call that part what it is: pride. Yuck. My pride is a nasty beast, as I'm sure is yours.

It's funny how people perceive situations. My friend perceived that I didn't want to be in the wedding anymore - VERY far from the truth! I perceived that I wasn't important, shouldn't be there, and wasn't valued. Again, very far from the truth. But as I often tell my clients, Satan doesn't just whisper lies that sound true; he whispers lies that feel true. That's why it's so hard to catch them as they snake their way into our minds. If his lies told me I should make far more money because no one else can do what I do as well as I do, I could spot that lie a mile away. Not because I'm hard on myself, but because I've been blessed to learn from many, many gifted counselors. But when he whispers these lies to me

No one wants you here.

You look foolish right now.

I bet they wish they hadn't asked you to come. You're always high maintenance.

You're easily replaced. You don't bring anything to the table.

Wow. Drama queen, much?

I buy them hook, line, and sinker every time. Those lies go to bed with all the insecurities I already have and give birth to lots of little pieces of evidence that the lies are truth and I really am as bad as I thought I was. So in this situation, my insecurity about how the people I love think and feel about me got all knotted together with my expectation of how things would go, and the result was misery and awkwardness.

It grieves my heart that last night wasn't more fun. Fortunately, the Lord has blessed me with some very good friends - and family - who are patient with me and, to be honest, view my indiscretions as minor (in comparison to the catastrophes that I generally define them as). People are far, far, far more patient and understanding of me than I expect them to be. A little part of me is regularly surprised that the people in my life love me as fully and freely as they do. The other shoe has never dropped, despite my expectation that it someday will. And my friend's friend was also gracious to me - a true testament of her character, considering she met me for the first time last night and I was at, well, not my worst, but a far cry from my best.

I apologized and was forgiven. In fact, I was treated with grace and mercy. This is just another lesson for me that I want to love others as Christ loves me - and, often, as others love me, too. Sorry wasn't a really hard word in this situation; facing my own sinfulness, on the other hand, is no fun. Scripture is full of wisdom about the tongue and the damage it can do. We often focus on the damage done when we have our tongues at the ready to slice through someone's character or behavior. I think this situation, however, reminds me that a silent tongue, when kept silent for the wrong reasons, can do just as much harm.

So that was my lesson for the day. Be slow to speak in anger and be quick to speak in repentance. Let your tongue loose when you are striving to clear up miscommunication or take responsibility for your sins. And don't let pride make you a prisoner to your plans. They probably weren't so perfect to begin with.