“It’s not our job to toughen our children up to face a cruel and heartless world. It’s our job to raise children who will make the world a little less cruel and heartless.” – L.R. Knost
Sunday was a special day for us. It was AJ’s baptism. She was getting baptized in the church where I was baptized; where we were married. I was nervous.
The baptism was wonderful; our friends and family joined us in celebration. When we left church to head to my parents’ house for a special lunch, we found your mark.
For some reason or another, you decided to key the word “rude” on our car. First of all, I’m sorry if we did anything that you thought was so rude that you needed to do that. Because of the snowy day and our necessary early arrival, there was no one around when we parked and walked in to church that morning. We don’t know who you are or where you came from, or why you did what you did. Was it something we did? Or did you happen to pick our car at random?
I would be lying if I said that what you did didn’t hurt my feelings. You tainted our special morning. But my feelings have been hurt by others before, and are likely to be hurt again. We quickly forgot all about it once we joined our family to celebrate.
I’ve been where you are. I’ve been angry; and when I was I behaved worse than you, for rather than lashing out at strangers, I lashed out at family and friends. I’ve hurt others by my own actions, and although I’m sure those whom I hurt thought I was personally targeting them, I was not. I was being insecure and dealing with my own problems in the wrong way. I’m sure I will slip and hurt someone else again; it’s human nature.
It would likely be easier for me to call you a jerk and be done with it. But that’s not the example I want to set for my daughter, and that’s not how I want to live my life. Instead (and maybe because it’s Sunday), I forgive you.
I don’t know why people do what they do. I might be making this a tad overdramatic; after all in the grand scheme of things, this offense was very minor, and you are probably just someone who was bored. I’m just trying to make a point. I cannot control what you or anyone else does. I can only control my own actions. And I choose to forgive and move on.
So I forgive you, truly. And, if you are hurting, or need love, I invite you to take 10 or so more steps next Sunday and walk inside our church. I promise you will be welcomed.
Sincerely, a fellow human being.
Kelly Weikle and her husband Chris are navigating the uncharted road of parenthood with their infant daughter, AJ. Kelly shares the ups, downs, laughs, and cries of new motherhood on The Mommyhood every Monday. When not discovering what everyone else who has a child already knows, Kelly works full time in corporate communications.