When you’ve been wronged.

I was mad. Angry. Offended. You been there? You are there? You might want to read this.

Last year, I had something happen to me that really upset me. As I see it, I was wronged. I committed to something, "signed on the dotted line" as they say, and had an understanding for a big project. But the other side — the other people involved — never followed through. And I never got a full explanation as to why. Instead, I got crickets.

I'm not going to lie, I've been stewing on it for almost a year. It probably pops up in my mind at least once a month. And when that happens, I quickly feel myself get "fired up." All those tools I talk abut in my anxiety book that you should use to help yourself calm down? Yeah, I have to use those.

This week, my mind once again started to become consumed by the situation Even this morning, I could feel myself getting upset about it. But I don't like that feeling, to be honest. I didn't want the same outcome as every other time.

So I took it to God. And he said something to me that I think I need to share with you.

What did he say? "Jon, you can grieve but you don't have to take offense."

Knife meet heart.

I'm not going to lie, that's not what I wanted to hear. There's part of me — OK, a large part of me — that feels justified in being offended. In being angry. In being upset. And you know what? If I told you all the details I think most of you would agree with me!

But that's not what God was telling me. He was calling me to something different. He was telling me it's OK to grieve the lost opportunity, but it's not OK to take offense. See, there's a big difference between grieving and taking offense. The former is a mark of maturity. It recognizes that there are often times things at play that we can't see or understand. It extends grace while still making room for our feelings.

Taking offense, though, is rooted in anger. It's rooted in self-righteousness. It's rooted in pride. "How could they do that to ME?!" It puts us on the throne, not God. It leaves no room for humility.

Years ago I heard some of the best advice ever. I believe it was from Jonathan Pokluda when I was interviewing him for a podcast. He told me that, especially in marriage, you have to own 100% of your 1%. Even if you are only 1% in the wrong in a situation, you have to own 100% of that 1%.

That's countercultural. That goes against what we WANT to do. We want to ignore any part of our contribution when it comes to an argument or disagreement. But the example of Jesus says, "turn the other cheek." Own what you can. Own how you've contributed. Own that you aren't perfect.

Friends, that hit me hard this morning. In this specific situation, I know there's at least 1% I can own. And I know that's what I need to do. That will look different in each situation. For me, in this one, it's a posture of the heart. Emailing the people involved, for example, I don't think would be beneficial. God's not telling me to do that. He's telling me to find rest in the fact that I'm not blameless. And that's giving me a peace. (That doesn't mean I have sent the necessary emails in the past. I have, when it's what God told me to do.)

So today, maybe you find yourself offended. Angry. Upset. If so, I'd encourage you to own 100% of your 1%. Whatever that means and whatever that looks like for you. You can grieve the situation, but you have a choice whether to take offense.

Don't choose the latter. I'm telling you, it doesn't lead to peace.

(Pic: Me and my son. As he's growing up, he's learning the power of words. In his young life, he's said plenty of things that are hurtful. He's a kid! But I extend him grace because he's learning. I need to do that with more people in my life.)