Saying “I’m Sorry”

I sat across the desk from a pastor telling him of grievances I had experienced; distress that had come from the hand of people I loved. More specifically: the church. He sat attentively and listened quietly while I spilled both my tears and soul to this one I barely knew. As I settled down and a stillness overtook the room, he leaned forward and out of his mouth came the kindest, most healing and appropriate words he could have uttered. “I am so sorry you have been hurt.”

He knew he couldn’t “fix” anything about the situation and so he didn’t offer a solution. What he gave me, however, was a much larger bestowal. The gift of being seen. 

Isn’t that what we are all looking for? To be seen? To have someone say, “I see you and I am so sorry you have been hurt. Are hurting”? What healing is in those few words. 

In 2006 I read an article in the Houston County Magazine that touched me deeply. It was an interview of a local girl who had made it to the glimmering lights of New York City. Because we went to different schools, I didn’t really know her, although our daddies had worked together, mine often mentioning what a kind man hers was. In the article, she was quoted as remembering the racial stirrings that had happened in our community (and around the nation) when she was in fourth grade, (I was in fifth), and how much it hurt her when the private school was formed and separation of students and friends occurred. Because my daddy was extremely instrumental in the founding of that private school, I knew then I had to contact her. It took me two years to do so, but I finally did. As part of my email I wrote, “I am so sorry that you were hurt by the decision and fears of my parents’ generation.” 

And that’s when I learned the power of saying “I’m sorry.”

A portion of her response I received early the next morning read, “You just left me in tears as I rode to *** Studios. Your words were like nothing I’d ever experienced. While I’ve moved away, emotionally, from that tragic time in southern Georgia, yours is one of the most amazing notes that I’ve ever received. I cannot thank you enough for your gracious, selfless sentiment. … Thank you for your comments from the bottom of my heart.”

Listen, all I said was, “I am so sorry you were hurt.” But those words carried such power. Such force. Such weight. For the first time, after four decades, she felt seen. Maybe even healed. In fact, in 2019, I received yet another note that said, “Your heart felt and unexpected letter still touches me deeply even 10 years later.” 

Powerful, healing words. “I am so sorry you have been hurt.”

Honestly, it doesn’t take much to say those words. The more difficult part is being aware of the person who is hurting or been hurt … of actually looking at someone and seeing pain in their eyes or on their face. Even their body language can be descriptive. For me right now, it’s more about seeing the cashier behind the counter at Publix or the nurse at the pill cart at the nursing home where my mother resides, because that’s where life mostly takes me these days. It’s more about slowing down and truly seeing people. And I do mean a literal slowing down at times. Pacing our walk. Becoming aware of the people around us. 

“I am so sorry you are having to pull such a long shift. I know you are exhausted. But thank you for being here.”

“I am so sorry that customer spoke so shortly to you. But you responded so kindly.”

“You look like there might be something weighing on your mind. I’m sorry.”

“I am so sorry you have been hurt.” 

“I am sorry.”

Powerful, healing words that we all need to hear at one point or another, because, more than anything, they mean we have been seen.

I have a bird print in my home that says, “To be seen is the beginning of love.” Maybe our seeing of that person, our “I’m sorry,” is really a conduit for God’s love to be poured into their hearts and for a healing to begin. I know that’s what happened to me while I sat across that desk. And it’s what happened to my friend in NYC.

Just an ordinary, grace-filled moment.

Thanks be to God.