When I was 7 years old my 2nd grade teacher accused me of lying. No one would believe me when I insisted I was innocent. She said it, and that made it true. I was grounded for 2 days and had ample time think about the unfairness of it all.
A couple of years ago my mother and I were out for dinner and I brought that incident up again. I just wanted her to know, once and for all, that I was innocent. Thirty years had passed, and I felt confident that she would believe me now! I would finally be vindicated.
Nothing could have prepared me for her reaction. She couldn’t believe that I was still thinking about the incident, after all these years. Rather than give me the vindication I sought for a 30 year old sin I didn’t commit, she indicted me for a much greater sin: pride.
Why was it so important to me, thirty years after the incident, to set the facts straight? I wanted to prove my innocence in a single peccadillo when I should have been repenting of all the times I had lied (and no one ever knew) during the thirty years following that one shining moment.
I was reminded of an important truth that day. “If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness,” 1 John 1: 8-9.
Wow, that’s a sharp mom who sees right through to the heart of things. You’re blessed.
What a godly mother!
Wow.
That would be hard to hear, but good.
Whoa. I too have had a thing follow me for many years that I was innocent, but everyone thought I was guilty on. My cousin finally fessed up to it not long ago. Instead of reacting with the grace and humble attitude a Christian lady should, I bragged and rubbed it everyone’s faces. What is even worse is that I really never felt bad about it until after reading this.