Those are really hard words to say. I don’t know why, but I realized day before yesterday, that I had been trying to fight it out with myself. Taking both sides (I don’t know the other person’s side). I think it’s been so long, since I was able to admit I had been treated disrespectfully by someone I cared about, that I don’t know how to approach it. Call it what it is. Deal with it appropriately.
I am a doofus. Incredibly awkward. Probably an acquired taste. In my usual style, I thought, “This is not a big deal. All I have to do is quick state my position. And be done.” In my haste, and because I wasn’t more judicious in my behavior, this person proceeded to shut me down.
Only I didn’t even realize it.
I could make a lot of excuses here.
There’s a 99.9% chance that I said something other than I meant.
But the other person said some things that were illogical to the most simple mind. Some unbiblical things. Some legalistic things. Some shockingly insulting-by-implication things.
Pleasantly, to be sure. Not like a friend. Like a person who knows they are talking to someone with less understanding.
There are a lot of things I’d like to say back. But it wouldn’t do any good.
I mean, it might. But based on the way it was handled, I don’t think I would be heard.
If I had waited on God before, it would have mattered.
But I went against the still, small voice and with an audible one.
So now, I am retreating. Letting the wound wait. Seeing if it will heal on its own. Struggling with the idea that when you mess a beautiful thing up, rushing in to cover it may not be the best idea. Maybe, you need to step back and see if it can become part of the work. Intervening only in the least measure. Using a delicate touch.
I get to do the hurting. I hope the other party isn’t hurt.
I don’t have a right to be acknowledged. I don’t have a right to be understood or to have my agenda be met. Those are privileges. Luxuries even.
I want to see great things from God. And that always means to “seek peace and pursue it.” To seek healthy relationships.
I have no idea what to do. Letting go doesn’t always mean walking away. Sometimes it means walking back into the line of fire.