Sorry

When mom would made me hug my sister and tell her I was sorry for pulling her hair or hiding "Big Pa" I never meant it.

NEVER

I wouldn't have hid Big Pa or pulled her hair if I wasn't mad at her.

Recently I hurt a dear friend. I didn't pull this person's hair. I did something much worse. I pulled on the heart. I found the thing that would hurt the most and I said it. And then when the hurt appeared in their eyes all I could think of was how bad I wanted to hug and say I was sorry. And I did, and this time I meant it. I really really meant it.

I realized instantly that I didn't believe any of the things I had said. I realized there wasn't a hint of truth in them. But it doesn't change things. Sorry doesn't work as well as an adult. Words that are said remain said, and sorry doesn't wipe them out. These scars remain. 

Recently I was reading a book on forgiveness and I jotted down a line that struck me.  "You don't regain another trust by assuring them there is nothing to worry about but by assuring them that you are doing the worrying for them."

And I am doing the worrying. I worry that I am not the friend I want to be. I worry about who else I have hurt. I worry that things won't ever be what they were again. But worry doesn't fix anything.

I came across this Mormon Message Sunday morning that explains the friend I want to be. 

I want to be the friend who "Assumes the good and doubts the bad." I am not going to be perfect in this life, but I plan on trying my best. And when I screw up, believe me I am going to be doing the worrying for you.