The Arrogance of Elegance

Part the Twenty-First

I sat down at the desk in my room, pen in hand as I stated at the blank page. I didn't know what to write with words, though if I could express what was on my heart, I'm sure I could fill the page up quickly. But how come expression is so hard when it should come naturally? As a child I often found it easy to pinpoint emotions and proclaim them from the rooftops, but now as an adult, I felt that I no longer let myself see those emotions and process them. But I needed to write them down. I had to write my apology to Audra.

I guessed I could start it off with an apology and then break it down. How I wanted to run and hide from the letter I was about to write. I felt ashamed of all of the things I had done to my dear friend, and bringing them up I felt I would succumb to the depths of despair.  But I shifted in my seat, remembering the wise words of my niece. Trust in Jesus. He will give me the strength.

Dear, Audra.

I am writing to tell you that I am very regretful of my actions and words towards you, last time we met. I have been a fool to let my mouth run and my arrogance and pride bully you in ways you did not and never have deserved. I want to reconcile with you, but only if you wish. I apologize for my bitter words against your character and have no excuse for them.

I have been in London with my nieces and nephews as a governess and will be returning shortly to Fernsbury in order to give my sister and brother-in-law a break from four of their five children. If you are alright, I would really appreciate it if I could apologize to you directly in person.  I'm not good at apologies but I'm doing my best to work on it since I've never had a humble bone in my body.

Please accept this apology, dear friend, for I cannot bear the thought of you thinking ill of me any longer.

Your remorseful friend, Delly

I sat there, glancing over the letter once more. The weight on my shoulders seemed to have been lifted so I felt as if I could take in a full breath. Thank you, Lord, I thought as I realized the first step in mending the relationship between Audra and me was over.  Next, would be a formal, in-person apology, and after would be all up to Audra whether she wanted to return to being friends or not. I wouldn't blame her if she didn't want to, I added mentally, before folding up the letter to send.

Part of me was scared to go out to London again to send the letter since I had already braved it to get the gifts for the children. I was so anxious that I would see Nicolas and we would fight again. If and when that time came, I was not sure what I would do. If I followed my previous patterns, I'd divert or cover up what I'd done in order to preserve my character or to appear perfect. In my mind, perfection was related to elegance and it would give me an air of pride. An arrogant pride in my status and upbringing so that anything that I did that could taint this figure I created for myself, would be thrown down. Even if it was true.

But as I thought about it, I wondered what Jesus would do. Since He was whom I would gather my strength from, He would be the best example to live up to. In fact, wasn't that a huge part of my faith? To live godly lives? To live humbly like our Lord? Our Lord Who was born in a humble manger and Who died on the cross when He did nothing wrong.

And then it dawned on me. If Nicolas were to recount again all of the things he had caught me lying about, I wasn't to divert or cover-up. I was to humbly accept them as for truth since it was the truth. And the truth hurt. In the past, I didn't want to admit my failures, because I felt it tainted my image. But, in fact, covering up the truth in lies was what tainted my image more— whether or not people saw it in this life because it was my heart that was being tainted and God saw that.

Then at the desk, I started tearing up and before long I started crying into my hands. I was so regretful of my entire life. I lived it to please myself and to appear like I lived a charitable and pure life, but it was all a lie. I wasn't pure—in fact, I was the opposite. My heart was dark, dirty, and broken when I pretended it was clean and whole. I poured out my apologies to the Lord which made me realize how lucky I was to have God to repent to.

Then I realized that I was strangely thankful for this whole situation for if it had not happened, God wouldn't have used this to show me my weaknesses and taught me humility. And I probably would not have come to London to be with my family. So maybe I was better off without Nicolas Burns and my ridiculous plan to convince him that he should marry me. Although I hated to cry, I hated to apologize, and I hated backing out of plans, I felt all-in-all this was a great turning point in my life to change for the better. Maybe I'd remain an old maid and be a governess to my nieces and nephews for the rest of my life. And I'd be alright with that life if it meant maintaining the lessons I had learned.