If you’re like me, you find it hard to let go of past mistakes. My mind is expertly rehearsed in the “Hey-remember-all-the-cringey-things-you’ve-ever-done?” department.
That’s why I so immensely appreciated the witty commentary of one of my ward’s Relief Society teachers. Joking about this very thing, she emphasized:
“If you look back at something in your life—some memory or moment that makes you cringe and think, ‘Agh, I wish I hadn’t done that. I should’ve responded differently. Yikes. Why did I say or do that?!’—be glad that you cringed. That’s right. That cringe is a good thing! That’s proof that your spirit has grown. You’ve changed. You’re a better person now. Cringing is proof that you would, and will, do things differently now. Embrace the cringe!”
She humorously helped me comprehend the difference between feeling guilty and feeling contrite: Guilt derives from defiance—from knowing better. Contriteness derives from earnestness—from wanting to be better.
So now, whenever I cringe at certain memories, I gratefully take it as evidence of how much I’ve changed.
Embrace the Cringe
I’ve searched diligently, and unfortunately, there are no verbatim “Embrace the cringe” verses in scripture (otherwise, I’d currently be working on a floral-framed cross-stitch of my newest favorite psalm), but 2 Corinthians offers something close:
“Now I rejoice, not that ye were made sorry, but that ye sorrowed to repentance: for ye were made sorry after a godly manner…. For godly sorrow worketh repentance to salvation.” (2 Corinthians 7:9-10)
Sorrow that provokes change is worth embracing! It’s the dazzlingly sweet paradox Mother Eve glimpsed when she boldly chose to learn about good and evil. Nothing will bind you more wholeheartedly to the joy of the good quite like experiencing the sorrow of the bad.
Heavenly Father is so infinitely familiar with every step of mortality’s dusty, thorny roads. He knows we’ll get full doses of both the good and the bad. We opted for opposition. And my own handful of tenderly transformative experiences have me convinced—That he is far more willing to receive us than we are often ready to believe:
“And ye shall offer for a sacrifice unto me a broken heart and a contrite spirit. And whoso…repenteth and cometh unto me as a little child, him will I receive.” (3 Nephi 9:20-22)
How could a loving Father turn away a sincerely sorry child? He couldn’t! Every parent knows that children are limited in capacity and comprehension. Our Heavenly Father knows this best of all and is eager to reassure every childlike heart of His love and patience.
The scriptures also teach that a contrite, earnest heart goes a long way in terms of our eternal education:
“Do ye exercise faith in the redemption of him who created you? Do you look forward with an eye of faith…to stand before God to be judged according to the deeds which have been done in the mortal body? [Or] can ye imagine yourselves…filled with guilt and remorse, having…a remembrance that ye have set at defiance the commandments of God?” (Alma 5:15-18)
I love the ambiguity of the phrase “the deeds which have been done in the mortal body” because it offers room for perhaps a unique interpretation, extending beyond all of my own mortal deeds to the deeds of the Savior while in His mortal body.
In other words, within the redemptive context of His love and teachings, “looking forward with an eye of faith” sanctifies even the smallest steps forward.
Less Guilt, More Growth
Satan revels in the sickening flavor of guilt. It’s like bile. A regurgitation of regret. He’s absolutely enthralled by opportunities to convince us that we are irredeemably condemned for our past mistakes.
The Lord takes the opposite approach. Through atoning instruction, He gently alchemizes guilt into contriteness: a forward-facing appetite for all things good. A hunger for improvement. A taste for the deliciousness of growth, however the morsels may come.
“Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.” (Matthew 5:6)
Don’t just embrace the cringe—let it spill over into an appetite for guidance, a hunger for growth. Every craving for change carries the incomprehensibly satiating promise: At the table of broken bread and the well of everlasting water, there’s plenty for all to be filled.
For more stories on repentance and personal improvement, check out the stories below:
► What Elder Christofferson suggests we say instead of ‘It’s never too late to repent’
▶ A realization about ‘relentless pursuit’ to help you feel closer to God
► Can I change immediately? What the scriptures say vs. what Satan wants you to believe
► Your job isn’t to be perfect. It’s to stay close to the One who can perfect you
