Valentine’s Day is supposed to be a day to celebrate love. But after a major foot-in-the-mouth moment and a humbling lesson on forgiveness, I have been thinking about this holiday in a whole new way.
Ironically, I had just finished shooting a segment for KSL’s Studio 5 the day before in which I talked all about bouncing back after making an embarrassing mistake. I got to put my own advice into action the very next night at a girls' night out.
We were all having a great time — the Italian sodas were flowing, our plates were stacked with chocolate cinnamon bears and giant cookies, and the sugar was doing its job. Suddenly, I got caught up in the moment of making people laugh and said something that really offended one of my sweet friends. Without going into too much detail, it was just simply insensitive. It wasn’t until I looked at her face that I realized the comment I had just made hit much too close to home for her. My heart sank and I suddenly felt ill.
After several women began to leave, I pulled my friend aside and apologized profusely for not thinking before speaking, something I still struggle with. I love this friend of mine and look up to her so much. She is the absolute last person on Earth who I would want to offend, and even though she smiled and told me it was OK, I knew in my heart it wasn’t.
That night I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about what possessed me to be so insensitive. It was completely out of character for me. I replayed that moment over and over in my head, agonizing over the thought that somewhere in our neighborhood, there was another mother awake weeping because of a comment I had made. I texted her and offered another sincere apology.
The next morning she texted back. She told me she wanted to be honest with me and tell me exactly how she was feeling so we could work things out and keep our friendship strong.
I quickly called her and the very first words out of her mouth were, “I forgive you.” It made me emotional to realize that something that could have easily torn us apart — and I wouldn’t have blamed her — actually may have ended up bringing us closer together because she frankly, directly, unmistakably and sincerely forgave me. We had a very tender and open conversation and then she said something that I will never forget.
“I just want you to know that I won’t ever say something like that again,” I promised her before we hung up.
“Carmen, I don’t want you to say that,” she began. “I hope you know that it’s OK to make mistakes. It’s OK to mess up and to ask for forgiveness again. And I will. I’ll forgive you again.”
That sentence right there embodies the true meaning of charity, or pure love, especially the pure love of our Savior Jesus Christ. Knowing that we will indeed mess up again and say or do something that will hurt ourselves or others, Christ made it possible to repent. To say sorry. To try again. He also made it possible to forgive and to be able to extend charity towards someone who hurt us and who may someday hurt us again. There is no greater love than that.
So this Valentine’s Day, besides celebrating my little man Briggs on his fourth birthday, I will be celebrating that kind of love. The kind of love that is long-suffering. The kind of love that is patient and kind. The kind of love that believes and hopes for the best in people. The kind of love that says, “I’ll forgive you again.”
I like the thought of calling Valentine’s Day my “Charity Day.” After all, there is no truer love than this.