“She said you were kind of lazy.”
A friend confided this to me when she recounted a conversation she had with a mutual friend. To say I was stunned was an understatement. I have a lot of faults, but being lazy isn’t one of them.
But that statement betrayed more than just this person’s view of me. It also meant that the things that I was doing, or had done hadn’t been seen, acknowledged, or even appreciated. I think that hurt even more.
Eventually, this whole exchange became public knowledge. If she was sharing this opinion with one person, she was sharing it with others in our group. The person I had once considered a friend and even a partner called me up to apologize. She admitted that she had called me lazy, and she said she was sorry she said it. I told her I appreciated the call. But somehow it wasn’t really satisfying. She was sorry she said I was lazy, but she didn’t really say that I wasn’t. What was I to make of that?
We continued to work together for another year until, in my mind, the position was untenable. I resigned from leadership. In the fall, I was singled out for my contribution. I was given a big bag of tissue paper and a plaque. And that was it.
I was thinking about all of this when I came across this post on X.
There’s a man in my office who hasn’t been promoted in 6 years.
— The Disruptor (@Disrupttor) March 6, 2026
He arrives before everyone. Leaves after everyone. Knows the company’s systems better than the people who built them. When something breaks at 2am, they call him.
His name is on the bottom of reports that directors… pic.twitter.com/rCJtgGL5Vz
This part stood out to me:
sent a company-wide email. Called it “a great loss to the team.” Eleven years of emails. And that was the first one that mentioned his name. The system will celebrate your exit more than it ever celebrated your presence. Stop waiting to be seen. Build something that sees you if you’re not appreciated where you are.
Finding forgiveness
A few months ago, our parish priest gave a talk about finding forgiveness and forgiving in general. I went to the talk because I so desperately needed to find a way to forgive and move on from this. It’s funny because I have a first cousin who legitimately stole from me. I have completely moved on from that. I rarely even think of it other than to ponder why it doesn’t bother me anymore, but this still does.
Father said in his talk that a lot of times it’s hard to forgive because justice wasn’t done. Maybe he’s right. But that didn’t help me in my search to forgive this trespass against me and my character.
Last week, after reading Bishop Baron’s Lenten Book, something did help … and it was so easy.
When you have a hard time forgiving someone or giving forgiveness, go look at a crucifix. Look into the eyes of Jesus, who hung on the cross, most unjustly, and still forgave his executioners.
What are my problems, and the sins against me compared to that?
Thinking of that actually helped – a lot.
She talked behind my back. Jesus had a fake trial and was beaten and tortured.
Yet he forgave and I struggle.
The whole perspective of it is so huge that in a way, it seems silly not to forgive and let go. That has been my major take away from Lent so far.
Just look at the cross.
American Backroom via Flickr, licensed cc.