The Detox Diaries: Mistakes

photo-1422433555807-2559a27433bd

Gentle Reader,

I made a mistake at work. The kind of mistake that makes people upset. Really upset.

When I was made aware of this mistake, I was mortified. Like, earth-please-open-up-and-swallow-me-now mortified. Not even the fact that it was an honest mistake, that I had been trying to be helpful, soothed my feelings. Irrational visions of a screaming boss and pink slips danced in my head. Trying to do what I could to own up to my responsibility and smooth the situation over as much as possible, I sent out an email to the offended parties, apologizing and assuring them it would not happen again.

And then I went into the staff bathroom and cried.

If this had happened a month ago, I would have been mildly embarrassed. I would have sent the emails, beaten myself up a little and moved on.

Not today.

Dabbing at my eyes to prevent my make-up from smearing, I heard the Spirit speak clearly:

That was a brave thing to do.

The tears didn’t stop right away and the sense of being a slug is with me even now. But that one sentence kept me from falling over the precipice. I looked at myself in the mirror and affirmed what I knew to be true: I am loved, chosen, accepted and redeemed. In light of eternity, this mistake is nothing. I am a daughter of the King, a Princess.

Today’s heaping serving of crow was a valuable lesson. First, even though it was painful and embarrassing, I chose the path of integrity. Instead of getting defensive, I owned up to what I did. And then not only did I hear God, I listened. Instead of latching on to lies, I grabbed hold of truth.

I think I’m going to cry again.

Stupid withdrawals.

Grace and peace along the way.

For all the posts in The Detox Diaries series, go here.

Advertisement

Thoughts?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.