I Once Had a Friend
Oct. 10th, 2020 09:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dogriverThis post has been going around and around in my head all day. I have been praying for sincerity, humility, and the right words to say. It may change nothing, but even so, it must be said, since I was quite public in my wrongdoing.
I had a friend on Twitter. I appreciated her friendship very much, was honored when she came to our wedding, and very grateful when she wrote a letter of recommendation when I sponsored my wife's coming to Canada. She showed me true friendship.
In recent times, we have had many disagreements in areas of our Christian faith. She was able to accept our difference, and I thought I was too, but I sure wasn't showing it. I started constantly calling her out on things I disagreed with, picking arguments, and not letting things go. She asked me to stop many times, and I did for a little while, then always jumped right back in and did the same things again. I was frustrated, angry, sometimes even infuriated by what she had to say, but I somehow always managed to try to deny her the right to say it in peace. I realize now that some find my opinions just as infuriating. In questioning the faith of another, I was acting in a decidedly un-Christian way. Instead of thinking of the many ways she had been a friend to me, I thought about the mistakes I felt she was making, as if I have the right to judge, which I don't. And in so doing, I was sinning, and I was pushing away a friend. IK did this time and again, and finally, earlier this week, I pushed too far, and have now been blocked from following her on Twitter. Instead of letting her work things out with God, I tried playing God, I tried pretending I somehow knew life and, worse, Jesus, better than she did, in short, I thought I was much more than I was, and I acted about as un-Christian as it is possible to act. As much as she had been trying to tell me this, I wouldn't listen in n my unjustified belief in my inherent rightness in all this. Instead of letting God guide my actions and my words, I allowed my big mouth, my knee-jerk reactions, and my ego to control me. That never works.
Now that I am no longer in contact with my friend, I am dealing with the loss, and worse, with the fact that I have only myself to blame. As frustrated as I sometimes got with what she had to say, I miss her friendship very much; I realize that I am at least as frustrating with what I have to say, if not more; I have no business offering unsolicited spiritual advice, I have no business pretending or worse, actually believing, that I'm somehow a better Christian than anyone. I have no business preaching the Golden Rule when I myself don't abide by it.
I could say that I'm under a lot of stress: job insecurities; COVID messing up my life; frustrations over braille display repairs; the hardships with keto and its whole new way of life; and on and on and on. All that would be very true, but none of that is an excuse, or even the ghost of an excuse, for the hurtful and spiteful way I have thought, the things I have done, the words I have said, the hypocrisy I have shown.
If my friend is somehow reading this, all I can say once more is that I'm sorry. This last week has taught me a major lesson about myself, a pill that I do not enjoy swallowing but which I must indeed swallow. It has taught me what and who I vlue, and it has shown me what the loss of a friend is. If you will once more allow me to follow you, I promise to show you through actions that I have learned this lesson. I will have my opinions, and I will never try to inhibit you from having and freely expressing yours. I have been completely in the wrong, not just once, but several times. I haven't the right to expect yet one more chance, but if you offer it to me, I will thank God for it and be sure I don't again destroy that chance.
To my other friends, I've learned a powerful lesson here. I've probably been a bad friend to you as well in my arrogance, and I'm sorry for that. Please pray for me that I take this lesson to heart, learn it backwards and forwards, and live by what I have learned moving forward.
I had a friend on Twitter. I appreciated her friendship very much, was honored when she came to our wedding, and very grateful when she wrote a letter of recommendation when I sponsored my wife's coming to Canada. She showed me true friendship.
In recent times, we have had many disagreements in areas of our Christian faith. She was able to accept our difference, and I thought I was too, but I sure wasn't showing it. I started constantly calling her out on things I disagreed with, picking arguments, and not letting things go. She asked me to stop many times, and I did for a little while, then always jumped right back in and did the same things again. I was frustrated, angry, sometimes even infuriated by what she had to say, but I somehow always managed to try to deny her the right to say it in peace. I realize now that some find my opinions just as infuriating. In questioning the faith of another, I was acting in a decidedly un-Christian way. Instead of thinking of the many ways she had been a friend to me, I thought about the mistakes I felt she was making, as if I have the right to judge, which I don't. And in so doing, I was sinning, and I was pushing away a friend. IK did this time and again, and finally, earlier this week, I pushed too far, and have now been blocked from following her on Twitter. Instead of letting her work things out with God, I tried playing God, I tried pretending I somehow knew life and, worse, Jesus, better than she did, in short, I thought I was much more than I was, and I acted about as un-Christian as it is possible to act. As much as she had been trying to tell me this, I wouldn't listen in n my unjustified belief in my inherent rightness in all this. Instead of letting God guide my actions and my words, I allowed my big mouth, my knee-jerk reactions, and my ego to control me. That never works.
Now that I am no longer in contact with my friend, I am dealing with the loss, and worse, with the fact that I have only myself to blame. As frustrated as I sometimes got with what she had to say, I miss her friendship very much; I realize that I am at least as frustrating with what I have to say, if not more; I have no business offering unsolicited spiritual advice, I have no business pretending or worse, actually believing, that I'm somehow a better Christian than anyone. I have no business preaching the Golden Rule when I myself don't abide by it.
I could say that I'm under a lot of stress: job insecurities; COVID messing up my life; frustrations over braille display repairs; the hardships with keto and its whole new way of life; and on and on and on. All that would be very true, but none of that is an excuse, or even the ghost of an excuse, for the hurtful and spiteful way I have thought, the things I have done, the words I have said, the hypocrisy I have shown.
If my friend is somehow reading this, all I can say once more is that I'm sorry. This last week has taught me a major lesson about myself, a pill that I do not enjoy swallowing but which I must indeed swallow. It has taught me what and who I vlue, and it has shown me what the loss of a friend is. If you will once more allow me to follow you, I promise to show you through actions that I have learned this lesson. I will have my opinions, and I will never try to inhibit you from having and freely expressing yours. I have been completely in the wrong, not just once, but several times. I haven't the right to expect yet one more chance, but if you offer it to me, I will thank God for it and be sure I don't again destroy that chance.
To my other friends, I've learned a powerful lesson here. I've probably been a bad friend to you as well in my arrogance, and I'm sorry for that. Please pray for me that I take this lesson to heart, learn it backwards and forwards, and live by what I have learned moving forward.
