Forgive me

by Andrea Elizabeth

Dear Ndugu, (I seem to need a device)

It’s been a nice day. I was stressing about the Church bake sale, but it ended up being fun. There are a lot of people who come every year, and its nice to see them again. One lady said something that made it obvious she hadn’t ever come before, maybe it was in not knowing how we do our receipts, and I said, “Hope to see you again,” and she said with a smile, “I wont be coming back,” as she walked away. I dumbly said, “Thank you,” to her back. I chastised myself for being too scared to say, “why not?” or at least, “was there something wrong?” In most cases where I second guess myself I end up just praying for them. By the way I second guess myself almost all the time. I’m always afraid I’ll ruin something. If I say nothing and just pray for God to be merciful to them and the situation I feel that God will do a better job than I could have. I take more risks on my blog, and sometimes on other people’s, but I still second guess every interaction. It’s not that I’m a coward. I just sincerely believe people are better off without me. I’ve heard that some people become monastics because they want to fix themselves so that they wont hurt other people. I don’t get the idea that other people agree that they are damaging, but they feel that way anyway. A lot of times I interact despite feeling the opposite of helpful because people will think me ruder if I don’t. Of course this isn’t always the case. Sometimes I feel that my interaction is sorely needed, then afterward I feel the opposite about what I’ve just said. Avoidant Personality Disorder or humility? I’m going to be arrogant enough to say it’s humility. I think part of it could be from feeling that some other people shouldn’t think so much of their own interactions. Maybe they should do a little more soul searching about the importance of what they say. I still go ahead and say stuff because despite being worried about it, ultimately I can’t ruin absolutely everything. Christ raising from the dead means that nothing anyone could ever do – because it’s all been done – could keep him in Hades. While I may have ruined all my kids’ lives and yours too, God will still raise them and you from the dead. And he will have more mercy on you because of my abuse. Sounds sort of Oliver Cromwellish in that he believed that predestination meant that no matter whom he killed it was God’s will. Of course I don’t believe that (anymore), but it is His will to fix things. But what if my wrong words can cause my kids or you to hurt others? That’s harder to take. I pray that God will look over all the sins of everyone down the chain that I’ve damaged. It’s my fault. That’s even too narcissistic.

Love,

Andrea

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