Backing Up

    I hate being wrong. I would love to live in a perfect little world where I never had to back up and admit my mistakes. For some reason, it's always easier to shift into "drive" than "reverse."
    Take, for example, a history class where two fifth grade girls were convinced the history book was talking about plants and animals that thrived in their state. I was very dubious. This was world history, after all, and it was talking about countries on the other side of the globe. Nonetheless, after school let out I performed a few Google searches and discovered much to my dismay that they were correct.  

    I didn't want to admit it. I wanted to just move on to the next day's lesson and conveniently sweep my newly gained knowledge under the carpet. The feeling that I needed to make it right with them and admit my mistake didn't leave. It was by God's grace alone that I found the humility to stand in front of my class and tell them I was wrong.

    Another experience comes to mind. It was a Wednesday morning, time for school devotions. As sometimes happens, the "Devotion Man" didn't show up. While we teachers tried to decide what to do, a thought stole into my heart: "You should just tell your conversion experience to the students." Oh, no, that wasn't going to happen! The Voice was persistent, but so was I. I managed to quell it, at least for a moment. 

    I don't remember what we ended up doing for devotions, but I do remember the conversation I had with my co-teachers afterwards. Two of them had felt the same gentle nudge, but none of us had been willing to follow the direction we were given. Later, at a school C.E., we all got up and volunteered our experiences, telling the students that we were sorry for not listening to God as we ought, and that we wanted to strive to live faithfully.

    Were either of these instances enjoyable? Decidedly not. Neither were the rest of the times I've had to back up and admit I was in the wrong, and there have been plenty. 

    There are a few things I've noticed throughout these times of humbling myself. One is that I believe a willingness to go back makes me stronger and more willing next time I'm asked to do something. Another is that if I never had to reverse, I'm quite sure the amount of pride I would possess would make me positively unbearable to be around. 

    The last thing I've realized is that backing up rarely is as terrible as I work it up to be in my mind. People are forgiving, especially when being told they were right. It's OK to admit I was too vehement. There's nothing wrong in owning up to making a mistake. 

    I've decided it's not fun or easy, but I'd rather wear out my reverse than get stuck in drive and risk running over other people and drowning out the quiet voice of the Spirit. Have I reached perfection backing up? No. I don't suppose it will ever be easy for me. Yet the peace of mind that comes from knowing I have been obedient is certainly worth the pain it causes the flesh. 

    If you find yourself needing to back up, just know you aren't alone. Many others have stood in the same shoes. Take courage. Backing up is a skill we all need to learn, and this time it doesn't take a good eye or a steady hand. This time it only takes humility and a sincere desire to please our Savior.