Thursday, August 23, 2012


If it’s true you gain wisdom through mistakes, well then, I must be a sage. In fact, I think I’ve earned the golden chalice for acumen in this past week alone. The reality is, I’d go back and relive the last several days if I could, where yearning exists for a do over.

I said and did a few things that left me eating crow. Most often I’m a disciplined person, but if somebody is incessant enough and pushes long and hard enough on the right buttons I have the potential to explode like that unpleasant loose cannon where anything goes. This is not something I’m proud of, and, writing with an open and honest heart, happens rarely. However, if/when it does it is dreadful.

After tossing and turning at night over a particular incident that caused an unsolicited chain reaction, I called two go-to people hoping to glean a bit of the old, “It’s okay, that’s not so bad” solace. Instead, I heard, “Oh, wow, you shouldn’t have said that. You did what?” along with detecting through the receiver a hiss of air sucked between clenched teeth. I hung up feeling worse.

Droopy, I began missing my dad. If my dad still lived, he’d first hear me out over the episode. Though he was a Godly man, he possessed an irreverent sense of humor (something he passed down to me in good measure thank you very much). So then he’d proceed with, “Here’s what you should have said. . . .” At that point, he’d paint a much worse (ridiculous) picture of the scenario and my specific role in it, bringing the both of us to roaring laughter at our humanness. Then he’d wipe the tears of amusement from the corners of his eyes and finish with, “Ah, you’re all right kid. Just do better next time.” I always walked away as if I could face life again, somehow redeemed.

Not able to correct the mistakes I’ve made, even after profuse apologies (sometimes you just can’t take back what you’ve said or done no matter what), I crawled under a rock, as they say, feeling its weight on my back. Then I remembered the voice of my dad, much like the unconditionally loving and forgiving Heavenly Father, hearing it again as if right there beside me: “Ah, you’re all right kid. Just do better next time.” It caused me to resurface. I stood, and today my knees aren’t as wobbly as they seemed yesterday.

You’re right, Dad. I’m gonna be all right - and I promise to do better next time.

Today, I am wiser than I was yesterday. Tomorrow, perhaps I’ll prove wiser than I am today. I could keep wishing for the obliteration of past mistakes, but where would the wisdom be in that?

A former dancer turned novelist, Tessa is the author of (appropriately), The Unforgivable, and the upcoming fantasy romance novella, Wind’s Aria, with more in the works. To see just how many times she can put her foot in her mouth, stop over at paying special attention to her Blogette.


  1. BAAAAAAAHAHAAAAA! Oh you are so awesome. Heaven forbid if we didn't cock up royally at least twice a year. Atta girl!!!

  2. God forgives us. Sometimes we just need to forgive ourselves and not keep going over it in our minds. Easy to say, but I know I'm not so good at doing it myself.

  3. @Jenn: Lol! I'd say I'd have a pretty good track record at twice a year. No sweat, right? ; ) Thanks, Jenn.

    @Dale: So true. I admit I'm my own worst critic. Thank you for that good reminder that forgiveness includes—and can free one from—rehashed accounts of regret, too.