Taking Responsibility: The Courage of Owning Up to Your Mistakes

A man in olive green stood before a map of the western coast of France. Circled on the map was a small town called Normandy.

In 24 hours, a battle to decide whether a five-year war would stretch farther. Would it result in the deaths of many more 18-year-olds? Or would it provide a crushing blow to Hitler’s Reich dreams?

The man who stood there pondered a single decision–whether to go or not. The weather was not the best. No one knew enemy strength numbers.

He sat at a desk and scribbled a note he would tuck into his jacket pocket. The note read:

“Our landings in the Cherbourg-Havre area have failed to gain a satisfactory foothold and I have withdrawn the troops,” Eisenhower wrote. “My decision to attack at this time and place was based upon the best information available. The troops, the air, and the Navy did all that bravery and devotion to duty could do. If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt it is mine alone.”

He envisioned potential disaster.

But the next day, known to history as D-Day, would ricochet the 20th century in a different direction. The Allied commander, Dwight Eisenhower, sent 850,000 men onto the beaches. Nine thousand would not return.

Eisenhower refused to take credit for the victory. But he would take responsibility for its failure.

Few have either Eisenhower’s courage or character to take responsibility for the mistakes in their lives.

Most point fingers at others. Parents warped me. Looking at the dent of a fender-bender, one driver always says, “It’s your fault.”

Lawyers use a tactic that says, “Anyone but my client.” Police, the system, poverty…they are the criminals, not the man wielding the ball-peen hammer at the head of a dead man.

It is as old as time.

In Genesis 3, God speaks to Adam who attempts to conceal himself in bushes after disobedience. The Almighty asks, “What did you do?”

“The man said, “The woman you put here with me—she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it.”(Genesis 3:12)

Adam blames his wife and then God. (Many marriages today continue this spiritual lineage of “it’s her fault.”)

Aaron, Moses’ brother lacked cleverness. His self-deception is almost comical.

When Moses comes from the mountain, he is furious. He sees Israel dancing around a calf of gold (a familiar image in Egyptian worship). He asked Aaron, “What did you do?” He responded,

“So I told them, ‘Whoever has any gold jewelry, take it off.’ Then they gave me the gold, and I threw it into the fire, and out came this calf!” (Exodus 32:24)

It popped out of the fire by itself!

So what’s your excuse for your sin? Is it parents? Society? Culture? A bad teacher? Hypocritical Christians? A conspiracy to cheat you?

Forget it. You know what you did and God knows what you did.

Admit it. It relieves the stress of hoping no one ever discovers the truth. Responsibility removes roadblocks from damaged relationships. (I have found people more forgiving than we assume.)

It gives you stature you didn’t have.

Years ago, I made a terrible mistake. I wish I could blame it on someone or something. It was my mess.

I had accused someone of something that was not true. My evidence was a quiet elementary girl and what she said she overheard. I exploded all over the man.

I found out none of it was true. I won the Olympic contest of jumping to conclusions.

I struggled for a week. Stress built. A previous friendship grew cooler.

As uncomfortable as it was, I did one thing.

At the time I was preaching full-time. Most of the time preachers offer an invitation. That morning I responded and asked an elder to read a statement. I took complete blame because it was what I had done, no one else.

When the service finished, I found people loved me more and gave me more respect.

I then realized that the biggest man in the room was the man who owned up to his faults.

And I knew what drove Eisenhower to write his note.

So, what have you done?