VIVID MEMORIES: APOLOGY Originally published on 8/29/2016
“An apology is a lovely perfume; it can transform the clumsiest moment into a gracious gift.” ~Margaret Lee Runbeck
Sometimes the memories are so vivid.
“Hey would you be able to talk for a little bit before you have your next thing?”
“Yea sure.”
As I write this brief interaction it seems more lighthearted than it was. Although neither of us wanted to come off too as intense or serious, however we both knew the conversation to follow was just that plus some.
We moved to the couches in the Southeast corner of the dining hall, only a few feet from the table I was sitting at during dinner on my school trip which I was taking for my health credit.
We sat and soaked in the awkward yet needed tension, and embracing the words we were both about to say, while hoping nothing went awry. I looked to my right and saw the fire ablaze and for a brief second wished for its relief.
I do not recall how he began the conversation, but he apologized, and affirmed me for being me. For my entire self. For being an image bearer, and beloved child of Christ. All the details of this moment have now slipped through my mind, but the feeling and the relief remain. A moment of pure grace and pure hope and pure love. The elephant in the room that I had been avoiding throughout the course of the week turned out to be God the whole time. Waiting for me, for us to embrace Him/Her and come together as one body in Christ, and to stop dancing around what needed to be said and done.
This apology was the first I had gotten since I was fired, 8…9? months earlier. No that’s a lie, the first sincere non-pressured apology I had gotten. And, in any case, the course of the conversation, the words, the setting, and all that was present and also lacking made the apology...the reconciliation...so much sweeter and so much stronger. We finally realized there was elephant in the room and welcomed It. And so often I have found God or the Holy Spirit to be the awkwardness, the hesitation, or that weird feeling. Sometimes the elephant in the room is simply God; nothing more, and nothing less.
The apology went something like this. “I am sorry. Although I didn’t necessarily want to, and knew you would’ve been great for this camp and helped out in more ways than the job you had been assigned, I could not make an exception, and I had the whole central conference to please and abide by. If there is anything I can do in any way to help with your faith or life, let me know.” …and he meant it. Every word. A simple, and full apology. Of course words are missing. Intonation, volume, and body language are missing, and thus I cannot fully portray the apology, though I wish that I could.
What matters is that Erik apologized. He admitted fault and took responsibility for the parts he had no control over in the camping ministry/business as well as those parts he did have control of, and then offered his help.
It took all I had not to cry, and I managed to squeeze out a mumbled thank you for apologizing and actually meaning it, and relayed that it was the first one I had truly gotten.
I then went to class late, and tried to not make a scene as I sat in silence pretending to listen, but actually reflecting and thanking God, and planning out my tomorrow. The last day I’d ever be at Covenant Point Bible Camp.
This memory isn’t vivid in the same way as the previous memory I shared in this series, but the reaction I had and what I felt…I still feel now. It is ever so similar and ever so sweet and exactly the memory I need when vivid memories that bring destruction resurface. So thank you Erik and thank You God.
Love and Faith,
Melanie J. Lofgren