Would you tell me when I am wrong?

A couple of days ago, I found myself sitting next to a distracted toddler in church. He was fidgety, his attention wandering everywhere but the mass. Fortunately, I had a drawing pad and a pen in my bag. I handed them to him, and his face instantly lit up with excitement. As he scribbled, his elder brother joined in, and soon, we were all engaged in a playful exchange.

As we played, a thought crossed my mind: If I could get him to play, I could get him to pray. I leaned in and whispered, “Kneel and tell Jesus what you want.” I use this method with my own kids. It is a gentle way to introduce them to prayer. We use it even in moments when we simply want them to be quiet. He paused, then followed my lead. It was a small but powerful moment.

Yet, as I watched him pray, another thought surfaced—was his mother comfortable with this? Did others in the church have an issue with it? Not that their opinions would change my intent, but still, he was not my child. It made me wonder: if I ever overstep, would someone tell me?

I have always believed in giving honest feedback, especially to those I care about. If I see a friend going down the wrong path, I speak up. I do this not to criticize, but to help. And I hope for the same in return. I am not perfect. I want people to tell me when I am wrong. Of course, no one loves receiving criticism, especially if it’s delivered harshly. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t feel the instinct to defend myself. But deep down, I value honesty. I want to be corrected when needed and encouraged when I’m doing my best.

So, I ask you—would you tell me when I am wrong? Would you encourage me when I am trying? And, in turn, are you open to receiving feedback with the same grace?

With sincere smiles,

HerSplendidThoughts