Face It Facebook Friends, I'm No Saint and That's the Truth.

Occasionally I wish I were a saint. Sam probably wishes that too.

But I’m not a saint. I often say things that cause other people to take offense, even when I don’t mean to – although sometimes I do mean to. I hurt a Facebook friend’s feelings recently, who said I couldn’t be counted on to speak the truth. That was hurtful to me because I didn’t understand that statement. I apologized, but I guess my Facebook friend no longer is my friend – which makes me sad.

I think the problem may stem from my skepticism. I sometimes think I was born a skeptic. I’ve been called a pessimist, but I say that a pessimist believes nothing good can happen while a skeptic believes that good can happen, it just usually doesn’t.

Anyway, one of the things I’m most skeptical about is what people say they are. I question their truth. My Facebook friend professed to be something and I expressed my skepticism. If you told me you were a saint, for instance, I’d have a hard time believing that and I would question you at length attempting to ascertain your motives for believing and behaving as you did. Why would you think you were a saint? If I weren’t born a skeptic, I think my skepticism may have been learned from my grandmother and mother who always looked askance at other people. My skepticism was made worse by being a cop for eight years and later a newspaper reporter. Nobody suspected of breaking a law - I mean nobody - ever told the truth. And people who talked to reporters usually were pushing an agenda that didn’t totally embrace the truth.

But my Facebook friend accused me of not telling the truth. Ouch!

I didn’t call myself a writer for the longest time because I had difficulty believing in myself as one. But, even though I’m not rich or famous like some writers, I do write this blog and have produced four fiction novels and I learned when I was doing newspaper work how to get people to react to columns I wrote, so, I are a writer little babies. At least that’s my current configuration. In contrast, I confessed a while back that I also was a Christian, not because I liked the label, but because I was raised as one. I go to church and pray and forgive and do all that, but I still sin and want to sin and am reluctant to come right out and say, “I’m a Christian.” Sorry to say you wouldn’t always know it because I don’t always show it. But that’s the truth.

Back to my skepticism. I do know that my ability to use words can hurt people and in fact I have used words to purposely hurt people. But this time, the Facebook incident was unintended. I’ve always questioned people and their motives. I was questioning authority at an early age, which did not always endear me to my teachers. I have often questioned authority at places I’ve worked – not necessarily for the better either. I try to be circumspect and respectful of other’s feelings but unfortunately my mouth is just the right size for accommodating my size-13 foot. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve hurt someone’s feelings I’d be pretty well off financially, but I really prefer not to get rich that way.

My apologies to anyone and everyone I’ve offended (unless you really deserved it!). And that’s the truth! Just remember friends, to forgive is divine (or some happy crap like that!).