Yesterday I had to have "one of those talks" with someone.
I hate confrontation. I don't like saying "this is how I feel about what you're doing" and I sure don't like to hear how they feel about what I'm doing.
It hurts. It's humiliating to hear that someone doesn't like something that you're doing, or that you said words that hurt the person, or worse, that something that you said was misheard, not just by one person, but by several and now they think you're a horrible person.
Because, sometimes, even if you don't mean for your actions and words to be taken a certain way, the fact that they were means that something in your delivery was flawed, right or wrong.
The individual and I had a productive conversation and we were "good" when we hung up the phone, but the conversation kept me up for a long time. It haunted me early in the morning, after being awakened by my baby. It stays with me this morning.
How I could have done things differently.
How I could have said things differently.
How quickly good things that you build can be torn down with just one wrong word.
How I've pained the Lord because of a poor relationship with a brother/sister.
Oh, I want to be better. I want to do better. I want my actions to be right before the Lord and his people. I want the words that I say to be like apples of gold, encouraging my brothers and sisters and bringing glory to God.
So, I repent, dear one, for the way that I hurt you. And I begin again, pick up that tool and start, once more, to build that good thing, praying that the Cornerstone, the Master Builder will come with his blueprints and his skilled hand and help me to make it more secure and more solid and less likely to be torn down again.