Apology Accepted

What are the most powerful words anyone has ever spoken to you?

Many years ago, I played a video game called World of Warcraft. I served as the leader of a group of 30-35 guys who played together in a pretty tight-knit group. In truth, I was the 'mom' figure to this bunch as well as the personnel manager.  I hand selected each member and handled all their concerns, complaints, and needs in terms of playing the game, as well as being a personal friend/confidant to many of them.  When it came to actual gameplay, I employed a Raid Leader (or dad figure) to bark the orders and get things done.  Our roles fit together nicely and while I wore the 'Guild Leader' tag, we led as a team.  All of our Guild Leader/Raid Leader discussions, disagreements, and flat out arguments privately never spilled over to the raid.  In front of the guys, we presented a unified front and stood behind one another's decisions. 

One of my Raid Leaders was a guy who went by the name Zygore.  He was a funny redhead from Kansas City who had served as Guild Leader in the past, but real life had taken him away for a time and then he returned as my Raid Leader. We worked together well, and we played 'good cop/bad cop' exceptionally. Most of the time we were on the same page seamlessly, but when we weren't . . .  well, there were fireworks. 

After one particularly bad explosion, I offered him an apology. Now that's pretty hard to do in the first place, swallow your pride and say "I'm sorry." Additionally, a true apology includes an admission of guilt, a request for forgiveness, and a promise that it won't happen again. I expected him to really let me have it at that point (and I would have deserved it), but instead he simply said, "Apology accepted."  Then he moved the conversation on to the next topic we needed to discuss. While the opportunity to bring up my mistake presented itself multiple times, he never did. NEVER. He never again brought up that issue. Never made me feel guilty. Never chided me about that mistake. Never reminded me not to do it again. It's as if it vanished. We both moved on with cool heads and clear hearts. I also never forgot that moment. Funny thing, I can't remember what I apologized for, but I will never forget the feeling of that forgiveness. 

Not too long later he made a mistake - a big one. He breached the integrity of the game in a way that was counter to our guild's values. And he did it in front of everyone and then laughed it off. I felt (understandably) furious. I debated kicking him out of the group. Later that night, I unloaded on him. (Not my finest moment.) He started to defend his unconscionable action, but then stopped, and apologized. He outlined a plan to make things right that included a public explanation and apology to the guild. A part of me wanted to nail him to the wall, but luckily I recognized the opportunity to offer forgiveness.  "Apology accepted." Accepting that apology did not change the plan to right the wrong or the consequence that came with his action. And he willingly accepted that consequence.  What it did do was allow us to move on without malice between us. I later marveled at the freedom I felt in not holding a grudge or being mad at him. 

It's been at least 6 years since that conversation, but those words still heal. When I struggled with forgiving my first husband for issues in our marriage, that same model of forgiveness and acceptance helped me recover and move on with my life. When things at work went insanely bad, I learned to let go and not hold grudges. 

This week, someone close to me hurt me. I'll not go into detail because the details aren't relevant.  He would never intentionally hurt me in any way.  He made a decision that I ultimately agreed with, but the result didn't turn out the way either of us had hoped. When I expressed my frustration over the situation, the temptation to blame him danced in my head.  I refrained. And later, he apologized. A simple, sincere apology.  "Apology accepted."  The relief washed over me.  I let go of my anger, my hurt, and my frustration.  Those words turned what could have be an angry fight into an opportunity for us to share our feelings and work through the situation together.  Skipping the blame and the pain freed us to spend our time healing the hurt rather than dwelling on it.  That painful experience has brought us closer together.

So I'd like to share a challenge with you, my readers. The next time someone apologizes to you, try accepting their apology. Not with questions. Not while demanding an explanation. Not if you are secretly planning to get them back for it later.  Really, truly, accept their apology and let yourself release the pain and the hurt. Instead focus on the steps to rectify the situation and move on from the incident together. I hope you'll find it as powerful as I have.

"Apology accepted."
The most powerful words