There is something I have long wanted to say to you.

For all the times I became angry over small things and discouraged you at every turn— …I apologize.

For my lack of self‑control, for my harsh and thoughtless behavior, and for judging you according to conclusions I had already made in my own mind— …I apologize.

For forgetting my own faults so easily, yet remembering yours so quickly and refusing to let them go— …I apologize.

For letting my emotions explode during our conversations, turning us toward negativity instead of hope— …I apologize.

For failing to be sensitive to your needs, for lacking wisdom, and for not responding to your love as I should have— …I apologize.

But now, standing in the empty space where you once were, I realize how much I grew while I was with you. Remembering the warmth of your love, I want to kneel before God and before you and say once more— …I apologize. (Author unknown)

We often forget the strengths and preciousness of the family members and neighbors closest to us. Only when they go far away—or when we can no longer meet them in this life—do we finally recognize their beauty and true worth. Perhaps that is why people say, “You only understand a person’s value after they are gone.” Yet no matter how much we long for them afterward, by then they remain only as a distant shadow.

Still, in the life we live today, how unfaithfully we treat those around us. Even when we know our words will bruise another’s heart, we speak them anyway, simply to relieve our own frustration. And afterward, when regret comes in waves, the quiet whisper of “I apologize” becomes a painful confession. If only we opened our hearts a little, we would understand more, share more, and enjoy a lifetime of blessing together. But instead, we bind our hearts tightly and burden ourselves with unnecessary yokes—how can we not grieve over such a life?

To know another person is as difficult as being known by them. Yet we judge our family and neighbors with astonishing ease. And once criticism begins to rise within us, we fall into the illusion that we alone are pure, complete, and right—forgetting our own shortcomings and dullness. I, too, have found myself indifferent when someone succeeds, yet quick to say, “I knew this would happen,” when they stumble. In those moments, I see how cold my heart can be.

This past week, I found myself wanting to say “I apologize” to everyone.

I apologize for being indifferent when someone needed help. I apologize for praying only for myself, my family, and those close to me, and not for you. I apologize for pleading with tears for my own desires, yet burying Your holy will. I apologize for seeking to lift up my own name when the name of the Lord should be exalted above all. And I apologize for weighing your worth before choosing to love you— when our Lord loved me first.

— Yoon WanHee, 1999