I've had two incidents this week when I've realized that I've hurt people. One was a recent conversation and the other was something I'd done long ago. And this same week I also witnessed a third incident where a person had been hurt by an omission. I was more of an outsider on that one, but I was part of it nonetheless.

What is going on this week? What is God trying to teach me?

At first I reeled from seeing my faults. I felt justified in my initial actions. I said what was true. What was necessary. I couldn't help that someone else felt bad in the long run. So why should I feel bad?

Then I realized I am just like those hurt people. At least twice a month (maybe twice a week?) I feel miffed and sad and hurt by something I see as a slight. Only later do I understand that I might have been extra sensitive and that the intent of others wasn't as mean as I'd conjured in my mind.

So I put myself in these three individual's situations. How would I have felt if I was on the receiving end of my words, my actions, my oversight?

It's easy for me to see when others are harsh with the truth. Just because a person is right or has an opinion doesn't mean these views have to be thrown in a person's face or dumped ungraciously in someone's lap. I claim to be a victim of this behavior all the time.

But what about when I'm the bully? When I feel attacked, I can zing back with the best of them. When I'm frustrated and feel like I'm not being heard, I loudly lament and hope someone feels sorry for me.

This is not the kind of person I want to present to the world. This is not the kind of role model I want to be for my daughter. There is a way to speak (and act on) the truth in love. I just have to take the time to find that way.

And so I had to apologize. Three times.

It's never easy. I hope that next week less reparation is necessary. :) I know I'll still stick my foot in my mouth. But maybe it will start to happen less.

I love words. Well-chosen verbiage captures my attention and stirs me inside. You could say that great writing speaks to me. ;)

My love of words led me to a journalism degree in college and then to a job as an editor for 11 years. I did have to brush up on my grammar in order to edit. It often came naturally to me; I felt what was correct and incorrect, even when I couldn't recall the exact rules.

My strengths involved the main idea. When you first choose a manuscript to publish, you work with an author to develop a story. Make sure it stays focused. Ensure the true meaning is conveyed to the reader. Then you proofread the details.

One detail I occasionally had to fix was verb tense. Authors choose to use present tense ("he says") or past tense ("she said") in a story. Rarely an author might slip up and switch tenses.

Last January, a dear, dear friend switched tenses. Kathy had an amazing life story focused on one main idea: loving Jesus. Nothing could shake the joy and hope she conveyed to others. But I found it so hard to switch tenses in speaking of her. I still want to refer to her as with us, present tense rather than past. She still remains in my heart daily. And I know she remains a present tense with the Lord.

Today, just over a year after Kathy's passing, I am heartbroken to find out that another friend has switched tenses. The same foe is to blame: cancer.

Suzanne's focus has been fierce. The main idea of her story has been loving her family and making every effort and sacrifice to retain her health and strength. Her humor and wit has never been phased. She has regaled us with tales from the absurd to the painful but always with spirit and smiles. Book club has had many entertaining stories outside the bound pages we read—thanks to Suzanne!

Early this morning, Suzanne's details changed. And I now have to proofread my words to speak of her in the past tense. It remains the hardest editing I have to do.

Icy fingers numb
Out in the cold, awaiting
Dead volts giv'n new breath

(A haiku ode to my car's dead battery this frigid 7-degree morning; thankfully Steve was able to help!)