Here’s another prayer from my forthcoming book Praying without Pretence: Honest Prayers for Honest People, hopefully coming out sometime next year.
When we yearn to say sorry to others
Lord, I know that I was in the wrong,
and that I owe an apology.
I said things I shouldn’t have said,
did things I shouldn’t have done,
allowing myself to get steamed up in the heat of the moment,
and thus my tongue to run away with me.
There are no excuses.
I spoke altogether out of turn.
And though I know I should say sorry –
more than that, actually want to do so –
I find it so hard to spit it out,
so difficult to swallow my pride,
eat humble pie,
and acknowledge that I was at fault:
that the hurt caused was down to me,
and me alone.
It’s stupid,
ridiculous that a grown man like me should struggle so much over one little word.
And I’m fully aware that I would feel so much better if I could but say it,
not to mention the one I’ve wronged.
But I’m weak,
proud,
stubborn,
foolish –
reluctant, despite my better judgement, to lose face,
Forgive me, Lord.
Work your miracle of love,
and transform me from within.
Give me the courage and humility I need to admit my mistakes
and wholeheartedly to say sorry.
Amen.