Tonight I felt horrible about a moment in which I’d lost my temper today—today I typed up a paper João Zeca from church had written for school, as a favor. I did it a bit grudgingly, because I only found out when he brought it over that it was 11 pages long—but I didn’t want to go back on my word, so I did it anyway. When he came to pick it up today, before saying thank you, he asked me if I had been able to make a cover page for it, and as much as I feel embarrassed about it now, I kinda blew up at him, asking him why he didn’t say thank you before anything else, and telling him he needed to learn to be more grateful. Even if I was partly right, I was much harsher in the way I said it than I needed to be, because I was angry—and after he had apologized and thanked me and left, I felt that I should go after him and say I was sorry for reacting so harshly. But I didn’t follow the prompting, and let the moment go. This evening, my embarrassment about this was multiplied over again, as I found out that João Zeca’s mother died Tuesday. He hadn’t even been able to be home when she died—he had been at a leadership training for church (one I had been at, too). When I heard that, I felt like the biggest scum on earth for chewing him out as much as I did when he had the best reason in the world to be a bit out of it and not exactly concentrated on manners at the moment. I felt so petty and spiteful for what I had done, and especially for not following my prompting. It was the second prompting I had not followed in as many days, as last night I had felt a prompting to ask Alan to say a nightly prayer with me (we went to bed about the same time, after everyone else, and I think they had already prayed), and had decided that it would be bothersome and that I wouldn’t. In both cases, I felt a sinking in my stomach knowing that I had ignored the guidance and advice of the Lord—especially in this case, when I had yelled at a good man who’s busy grieving for his mother. I can’t wait to see João Zeca again, because I need to apologize to him—I can’t let this slide, or I don’t know what I’d think of myself.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Ignoring hunches
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1 comment:
I know exactly how you feel. Yesterday morning, I was short with my grandma while I was working on a paper, and I felt so bad afterward--I couldn't let it slide either. Those hunches are golden. And it reminds me of a story I heard from a friend: Her father had recently helped her out by painting the walls in their new home, and he accidentally painted over the built-in drawers in her room. She had intended to go to the temple, but her sock drawer was inaccessible, so she couldn't get her white socks out. She remembered a couple men and women looking at her funny, and could imagine they'd be thinking, "Couldn't she just have remembered to put on socks and shown respect for the temple?" but her point was not to react immediately to someone's deficiencies...because you never know when someone's sock drawer has been painted into the wall. :)
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