Okay, not quite that simply put, but that's basically what I thought I communicated. I'm a writer. I chose the words carefully and sent the letter on its way with a quick prayer for positive reception. Notice, I didn't pray before I wrote the letter. No. I didn't give the Holy Spirit that kind of time to steer me away from this project.

What I really wanted was a change of heart on the part of the receiver. A sudden head-thump moment. "Oh, my gosh! How could I have been so blind. Now I see that I've been wrong all these years n staying away from this wonderful loving family. I will call them right now to ask for forgiveness." That's what I hoped for. Although I didn't admit that to myself, my husband, my daughter or to my mother and father. Oh, yes. I'm afraid I shared my "loving gesture" with all of them. Talk about stupid and prideful.

So, guess what happened? Yesterday I received a three-page computer-rinted letter from this man. The length alone spoke volumes. It didn't begin with "Dear," either.  Just my name. Another clue about the way it was received. Following the "greeting," he wrote a litany of non-of-my-business kind of information. Definitely TMI stuff. Years of sucked-up pain oozed from his words. 

Whether these incidents happened exactly as he recalls or not, his perception is his reality. I cried with him. Midway through, I considered whether I should even finish reading. I felt like a voyeur. What he shared was intensely personal. But since I'd stepped over the line into his space, I heard him out. Maybe he needed to vent. Maybe no one else listened any more. 

Several lessons for me have emerged from this experience. The first I already knew, but apparently forgot. As Mother used to say, "It takes two to tango." Very rarely does a person harm another for evil motives. Negative actions are usually reactions to hurt. Often we injure others thoughtlessly without considering who will be hurt by our choices. False assumptions are made. Words are misunderstood. Sometimes wounds that never heal result. But regardless of how the injury occurred, both parties have a version of what happened. I am incorrect to assume anything from listening to one side. Even if that version gets repeated by others until it becomes part of family lore. that's why judges listen to both parties before rendering judgment.

Besides, if I wasn't there, how do I know what happened? Even if I was there, I know only what I saw and heard. I don't know what transpired earlier. Then there's the pride issue. Mine. Big pride. I assumed I'd know what God wanted to say without consulting him. Wrong order.

Now  I must fall on my knees and beg for God's forgiveness. Then, I need to write another letter apologizing for my arrogance and lack of compassion. You know what they say about good intentions.

Will I ever learn?