We all do dumb things. Some of us hold firecrackers too long. Some of us attempt the atomic challenge at Buffalo Wild Wings (and wake up with regret). Some of us pet the cat the wrong direction (and wake up scarred). And some of us even try to skate off rooftops and end up parkouring the concrete with our faces.
A few weeks ago, I did a very dumb and very foolish thing...
I left angry.
The story goes something like this: My friend (who shall remain nameless...again...because that's what you do in blogs) and I were having dinner and some margaritas with a couple before I had to catch a flight back home. Now, there have been a few times that I've drug my feet and have been late for a flight. Once was because I was in the middle of a serious conversation with the same friend, and I didn't want to leave it unfinished.
I blame the other two occasions on ridiculously long TSA lines (45 mins plus).
Granted, I work for the airlines, so it wasn't that difficult to catch another flight...even if it was the next morning.
But that's beside the point.
So anyway, I was kind-of dragging my feet (but not by much). She reminded me that it was time to leave, and what I remember saying was, "Alright, let's go," and then her saying, "Okay, well let me use the bathroom first."
Another five minutes.
Then, we finally hit the road. The airport's only like...ten minutes away. Cut-off time for checking in bags (I had a bag) was in five.
Psh, we can make it, I thought.
And then, out of nowhere, she says, "You always do this!"
We've had this argument once before.
The last time I missed my flight, I had to stay overnight on her couch, so she had to come back to pick me up. She was upset then because she felt like I didn't appreciate her time and potential plans. It seemed like, to her, that I missed my flights on purpose...just so I could hang out with her a little longer.
Which may have been a subconscious truth...because as you may have guessed (especially if you've read part one)...I'm crazy about the girl.
And that, of course, complicates everything.
But! ...it wasn't a deliberate, conscious decision.
Anyway, I tried to explain that I didn't miss flights on purpose. I only missed that one flight so I could finish, what I thought, was a very important conversation.
I know. I know. You're probably thinking, "Sean! You missed a flight...just so you could finish talking?!"
Yup.
I fly for free. Different priorities.
Sue me.
Anyway, we got over it (I thought) and moved on.
But then, here I am, and she's arguing the exact same thing she did almost a month before.
I think the part that ticked me off the most was that she said, "You do this all the time!" when I had, in fact, only done it once.
(I fly through DFW a lot)
I'm a stickler for accuracy...and for not being wrong, of course.
I know. Petty.
I let her vent for a little bit as we drove to the airport...but right as we drove beneath the barrier arm and entered the airport...something snapped. All I could feel was this blame, shame, and misunderstanding literally pouring out of her mouth and over me...wave after wave...and I wasn't going to have it any more!
"You make me feel like shit!" is all I remember saying. And I don't cuss often...despite what you've heard. And there was something about love thrown in my tirade somewhere, but I'm pretty sure it was covered up by all the excrement.
But there is something I remember very well.
She pulled up to the drop-off point. Now, you have to understand that every time before, I've left her with a hug, a kiss on the cheek, a see you soon, a call me when you make it home.
This time, regardless of what was said, all I know is that I grabbed my bags, slammed the door before she could finish talking, and walked away angry.
Some of you might blame it on the two 'ritas. Some might just call me an asshole (which I was). Some of you might pull the double-punch and blame both. But regardless, as the minutes passed, as I got my boarding pass, as I made it through security with my bags, as I found my seat on the plane, as we taxied away from the gate, as I sent her a quick text saying, "On. Love you," as a hasty, makeshift patch to what I had just done...as I wrote out an even longer apology...regret began to flood my chest.
You know the feeling.
That painful ache of realization that you just did something you couldn't erase...and that in your selfishness, you said things you could never, ever take back.
An hour and a half later, I made it safely to the ground, but I went home in silence and fell asleep.
And then I woke up. And for whatever reason, the only thing I could sense was that I had made a terrible, terrible mistake in leaving like that. What if that had been our last meeting? What if, God forbid, I never saw her after that?
But even more importantly, if I loved her as much as I said I did, if I loved Christ as much as I claim, why would I even allow myself to touch the surface of such heartless words and careless exits...no matter the reason?
"Be angry, and yet do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger..."
-Ephesians 4:2
I heard that verse many times growing up. But what surprised me more was what the rest of it said:
"Therefore, laying aside falsehood, speak truth each one of you with his neighbor, for we are members of one another. Be angry, and yet do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not give the devil an opportunity. He who steals must steal no longer; but rather he must labor, performing with his own hands what is good, so that he will have something to share with one who has need. Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, but only such a word as is good for edification according to the need of the moment, so that it will give grace to those who hear. Do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you. -Ephesians 4:25-32
In a matter of less than five minutes, I became the antithesis of that entire passage. And no matter what she had said...none of it was her fault, and she didn't deserve to be spoken to in such a manner.
In those few moments, what did I steal? What did I tear down in her instead of build up? And what does that say about my "love" for her and about our friendship?
Instead of focusing on the beauty of who God has created her to be, instead of listening to her and trying to see the situation(s) from her point of view, instead of approaching her concerns with a humble heart, instead of trying to understand, I lashed out in some selfish, adolescent rant in an attempt to prove myself right.
And I never could have been more wrong.
So, like before, to her, though I can't say it enough, I say, "Thank you for your friendship, for your patience, and I apologize for how I've treated you."
And to everyone else, never let your pride be so important that you tear someone down, especially someone you love.
And never leave angry.
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