Excuses

Abby's most recent writing assignment was to write a letter as the Wolf, addressed to the Three Little Pigs.  The wolf is out of jail and wants to be friends with the pig who still lives in the neighborhood.

Because that is how life works, right?

Dear Al,

You can tell him you weren't trying to hurt him and you just needed a cup of sugar.  Ask him to be your friend.  Tell him that you had a cold and you didn't try to blow his brother's houses.  Say you had a cold and the pigs had built their houses poorly so when you sneezed, it blew the houses down.  When the houses blew down, the pigs were just sitting there, so they would be rotten if he left them.  Promise that you won't play pranks or eat him.

Your friend,
Abigail Rosenfeldt

Apart from the fact that she missed the whole point of writing the letter and just said what she would write, this letter made me laugh.  Excuses, excuses, excuses. 

Yet, I find myself writing letters just like this every day.  They are called emails and they get sent to those who I am making excuses to.  My excuses are not quite about having a cold and knocking over someone's house, but more about forgetting to turn something in, or pay something, or remember an appointment.

My excuses usually fall on the same person (ahem, Noah), but really, I need to stop blaming that little guy.  I am human, I make mistakes and I need to own up to them.

And I need to have some grace with those who make mistakes to me.