I hate saying I’m wrong.
I’d rather take a semester of Calculus than say I’m wrong. I’d rather eat a bucket full of broccoli than say I’m wrong. I’d rather have a mouse run across my foot than say I’m wrong.
I wish this were one of those posts where I follow that up with something wonderful and mature, a life lesson that turned me around and made me joyful when given the opportunity to admit my mistakes.
Sorry. Not gonna happen. Not yet, anyway. This is one of those posts where I admit I am still growing and falling and struggling. Do I think I am never wrong? No. I know I make mistakes. But saying it out loud? Ouch. That is so difficult. I’d rather act like the wrong never happened. Or, even better, justify why my wrong wasn’t nearly as bad as other people’s. I’m really good at that. I make excuses for my wrongs, I sugar coat them, I do anything – anything – rather than admitting them.
But – and here’s the lesson that God keeps trying to teach me and I keep remaining too hard-headed to totally learn – I am miserable when I refuse to admit I’m wrong. Making excuses and justifications, ignoring or blaming – those do not bring satisfaction. Being right all the time is exhausting! And it distances me from the One who knows the truth.
On those rare occasions that I actually do admit I’m wrong, it feels good. After I say it. Before I say it, my stomach is in knots, my tongue is tied. I have beautiful, long debates with myself about whether or not it’s really necessary – and, to be perfectly honest, the “you don’t need to say it” argument wins most of those.
Maybe other people don’t struggle with this. Maybe you’re reading this thinking I am crazy. You can say “Sorry” all day and not be bothered at all. Well, good for you. I bet you like broccoli, too, don’t you?
But this is where I am. Not finished, still in process. Still struggling with things that a two-year-old struggles with.
I am thankful for a God who doesn’t give up on people as pig-headed as me. I am thankful for a God who doesn’t just say, “Do whatever you want. It’s fine.” Because it isn’t fine! But a God who says, “You ARE wrong, but I love you enough to help make you right.”
