Just last night I apologized to someone for something I said and the “way” I said it. On the surface this really isn’t a big deal until I tell you I claimed hell would first freeze over before I apologized.It was a heated exchange and I went for the jugular. In my relationships, familial, platonic, or romantic, I normally walk away from debates or arguments when I’m angry to avoid such heated exchanges. But there are those rare occasions when, before I know it, I am like a pit bull on attack mode. There’s no stopping until my thirst for blood is satisfied. Yes. It can get like that.
In the ten days from when the incident occurred and the apology was offered, God convicted my spirit. How did He do this you may ask? By using my grandmother, Laura L. Sterling. I kept hearing her voice in my head admonishing my behavior, ‘you know you weren’t raised liked that’…blah, blah, blah-ba-dee blah. Mother, or “Mudda”, has been gone from this earth for 11 years and let me tell you, they don’t make ‘em like her anymore.
For ten days I pouted, I stomped my feet, and I stood my ground on principle. For ten nights my sleep was restless and fitful. I refused, absolutely refused to humble myself, doggone it, I was right! I have played this game of tug-o-war with God before and I have never, ever won. Thus, I relented, repented, and humbled myself.
After all, when it is all said and done and I’ve gone to meet my maker, I need there to be one less thing for which I have to answer to God. Besides, I needed the sleep.