Was It Something I Said?

Estimated reading time: 4 minute(s)

Over the past week or two, I have had this feeling more times than I would like to admit. That feeling of unsettledness. Something is wrong, but you can’t quite single out the exact cause. You feel it in your stomach. A bit in your throat perhaps. And nothing fits together in life. Everything is just sort of, off.

Tonight the feeling is from a misunderstanding in an email exchange. A friend seems to be hurt by something I said that was completely harmless… or so I thought. Earlier this week I found out that somethings I had said had hurt some people I love – and this was after I was hurt by something they had done before I had a bigger picture of what was going on. All this follows closely on some turmoil in Jen’s heart that was thankfully not caused by me, but still managed to produce that feeling in me… and I couldn’t shake it.

I don’t like it when people around me – especially people I care about – are sad, or even angry. Even moreso when their feelings were caused by something I said or did. All I want to do is fix it. Repair the damage I have caused. Or, if I am not at fault, just repair it. Make it all better.

Sometimes, I just can’t. So if I know that, why does my stomach still feel this way?

Perhaps I am overreacting. No, I am sure I am overreacting. But I do believe that’s the way I was made. Maybe we all are, but I know for a fact that I am. I am made to relate, and when relationships are broken, strained, or otherwise in need of repair, I can not do anything until they are restored. Funny, huh? Even if it’s not really anything I did (like with Jen last week) I could not function until there was some resolution in her heart. That may be because she is my wife, and we are mystically “one”… but I’d like to think it’s even more than that.

I want to be completely empathetic. I want to be so in tune with the emotions of others that I hurt when they hurt. I also rejoice when they rejoice. But actually, I don’t think I am that cool. I do believe some of my discomfort is my desire for perfection in life. I don’t want someone to hurt because of what I have done. That means that I messed up. I want to correct it. For them, yes… but also for me.

How sad is that?

You know, I actually think I am a nice person. I had a business relationship go quickly very sour a few weeks ago. I mean I was being shouted at over the phone. I was quite shocked, but I stood my ground as I really felt there was a right moral thing to do in that situation. I got the same feeling after hanging up the phone. Tight, twisting knots in my stomach. I hated making that person mad. But I replayed everything I said and I think it needed to be said. I wrote a few emails back and forth that day with this person, and in one of them I actually said, “You know, I really am a nice guy…” The response back was “I know you’re a nice guy. I can tell.” The matter was resolved, and the relationship restored. I actually don’t know how, but it was like a TV ending to that story.

That’s what I figure it will be like every time. I really do have good motives. I’m not hiding anything. I want no part of games or manipulation. What you see with me is what you get. That’s it. And my assumption (often proven wrong) is that is what I am getting from everyone else. I think I will always think that. I think I will always think that I am received at face value and that people are giving me the open, honest truth. I don’t think that’s true, but how can I live any other way?

I really do think I am nice… and have other people’s hearts and “best interest” in mind in most things I say.

I am, however, quite human.

Well, tonight I go to bed with an unresolved relational issue. I e-mailed my friend whom I apparently hurt, but have not heard back yet. My stomach is unsettled. My heart is restless. Part of it is my desire for peace for the person I have hurt. Still, another part is because I long to be perfect. As God continues to work in me, I hope for the former. I want to desire restoration and wholeness of relationship because it values the person with whom I relate.

So my friends whom I have hurt with my words, I am sorry. Please forgive my bumbling lips. (Or, fingers, as it were.) I often speak exactly what is on my mind, and sometimes, it needn’t be spoken. I don’t mean that we should not be open and honest with each other. I mean, sometimes I need to just not say stuff.

With God’s help, I may get better at that.

Until then, thank you for your friendship, and I wish you peace.