Anyone who knows me, knows I hate being wrong. I want to run from it and the humiliation I feel as quickly and as permanently as possible. This weekend a friend pointed out a job I didn’t do as I had been asked. Oops. It turns out I was wrong.
The next morning, still struggling with my embarrassment, but ready to give it another try, I stumbled on a book while waiting for the coffee to brew. I randomly opened it hoping to occupy my sleepy brain with something. I opened to a chapter called Dealing with our Faults. I read:
“We must be neither amazed or disheartened (at our faults). We are not more wicked than we were. We are really less so, but while our evil diminishes, our light increases, and we are struck with painful dismay at its extent. We must not be discouraged either …discouragement is not the fruit of humility, but of pride. Nothing can be worse. Suppose we have stumbled, or even fallen. Let us rise and run again. All our falls are useful if they strip us of a disastrous confidence in ourselves, while they do not take away a humble and saving trust in God” – Francois Fenelon
Maybe it was a good day after all.