I am capable of great cruelty. I have spoken in anger, in fear, in judgement. I have spoken words that have cut and wounded others.

I have ignored. I have burned bridges. I have broken friendships that could never be fully mended.

I have justified my cruelty. Sometimes saying it was "right" or necessary, even saying it was guided by God.

I have been as a crusader. Blinded to the truth of God's grace.

I have returned love with harsh words. Wounding words. I have returned kindness with burning silence. I have snubbed those who have pursued. I have judged harshly. I have bullied. I have yelled. I have turned my back on friends. I have spoken with the intention of wounding, and I have withheld with the intention of hurting.

From the overflow of a fractured heart, a fearful heart, a wounded human heart, a walled-off and hardened heart, I have acted rashly, aggressively, regrettably.

I like to justify and think that these things happened in my youth, in my immaturity. And although there were more severe episodes of this in my past, the truth is it continues.

I have used my words and my silences in destructive ways and in this I continue. My tongue is far from tame.

This is my confession. This is my apology.

To those I have wronged, forgive me. To those I have made cry, forgive me. To those I have called out harshly, forgive me. To those I have ignored, forgive me. To those I have given the silent treatment, forgive me. To those I have wounded, hurt, and shown no grace, forgive me.

There have been apologies in the past and yet still I carry regret for these actions, pain for the pain I have caused others, hurt for the lack of grace I have extended, the lack of love I have shown.

Lord, I cannot change the past. I cannot change my tongue or my hearts propensity to forget how my words or actions might effect others. I cannot change anything on my own. But I can ask, I can beg, that you would take my heart and continue to teach it more and more grace. More grace, Lord. More and more Grace.

Rejoicing in the journey, Bethany