“Jude … come here, buddy.” I looked into the eyes of my toddler as he slowly walked toward me. I had just corrected him out of frustration in a tone that was too harsh — it was the first time I can remember doing so. I was filled with remorse as I looked at his forlorn little face, feeling like I had just completely failed in my motherhood journey.
Many years ago, a close friend challenged me about a particular movie that I liked and had recommended to others. Her words of correction were appropriate and respectful, and she had a position to speak into my life, but I found myself inwardly bristling in self-defense as she spoke. On the outside, I smiled and nodded along as she talked, and even humbly thanked her for sharing her co