Forgiveness: Not for the Faint of Heart

Forgiveness: Not for the Faint of Heart

Today is April 12, 2009—Easter Sunday. It’s a beautifully sunny day outside; the sun cheerfully glistening through the open blinds, feathered friends chirping away on the lawn, solitude settling peacefully inside this apartment. It is the day that our Lord has risen; after 40 days of somber, lugubrious Lent, it is time once again to rejoice in what the Lord has made for us.

I never had a strong background in faith growing up. Church just wasn’t something my family did very often; it wasn’t much of a priority, I’m afraid. I was left to forge my own path, spiritually; it’s not been easy. It wasn’t until a few major devastations took place in my life that I found myself no longer questioning God’s existence; it was in these harrowing times that I discovered what it meant to being to follow the path towards Christ. The adulterous acts of my first husband; the death of one of my closest friends; dealing with not one, but two divorces at the same time; these events shook me to the core and yet, instead of denouncing God, they showed me that through Him, I can find strength. Conventional wisdom would assume that it’d be acceptable for me to curse Him, to shout, “Why me, God? Why are you hurting me so much?” But each time I was knocked down, He was there to help pick me back up, shake the dust off, and grant me a new level of resolve to continually persevere in the face of tragedy.

I decided to try something new this year. I’d never really observed Lent, so I decided to give it a shot. My first order of business was to give up coffee (which, it turns out, was much more difficult than I thought it’d be.) My second order of business was to work on something that I’d needed to for a very long time—forgiveness. Since Lent is about shedding the old ways that turned us away from God, I figured this would be my chance to see what this forgiveness stuff was all about. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

For quite a long time, I’d been carrying so much anger and resentment around with me. I was angry with my ex-husband for all the hurt he’d put me through, both during and after our marriage. He’d cheated on me, he’d controlled me, he’d disrespected me in more ways than I care to recount. It got to a point where the mere thought of his name would send me into a quiet rage inside. I was so horribly, incredibly angry that it began to permeate my life in ways that I didn’t realize; the stress, anxiety, trouble sleeping, and every so often pessimism would work its way into my daily outlook. It wasn’t healthy, but I kept it all bottled inside me for so long that I didn’t know if there was any other way to live.

These emotions I also had felt towards my mother, who left my father after 23 years of marriage for a family friend. I felt so betrayed by what she’d done that it pretty much destroyed any semblance of a relationship between us. I didn’t want to look at her, talk to her, be anywhere near her. She was with me when my ex had committed adultery, and she saw what it did to me; why would she even think it’d be remotely acceptable to break the same Commandment? I felt I had no mother any longer, because I didn’t even know who she was anymore.

Going into Lent, I didn’t really understand what forgiveness really was. I mean, I thought it meant saying, “Well, you hurt me, but it’s okay. I forgive you, and if you hurt me again, that’s no big deal!” Did forgiveness mean I was supposed to just forget about the injustices I’d experienced? Was it giving those that had wronged me carte blanche to hurt me more? Did it mean that they’d be off the hook for how they’d betrayed me? I’d had this idea that once I forgave them, we’d all have to be best buddies and skip into a field of dandelions, holding hands and singing happy nursery rhymes, and we’d never speak of what had happened again. I didn’t like this one bit. After all, I was justified in my anger! It was all their fault! What did I do to deserve such horrible treatment? They need to be responsible for their actions and come crawling back to me, begging my forgiveness, damn it! To hell with them!

I held to this notion so tightly that it was painful to think otherwise. I had told myself I was going to work on forgiveness, but I really wasn’t making any progress. It was far too difficult to let go and embrace a new way of thinking; after all, I’d felt this way for so long that it seemed preposterous to think otherwise. I was hearing what Jesus had to say about forgiving those who trespass against us, but it wasn’t really sinking in. It took a couple weeks until I decided enough was enough; I just couldn’t afford to keep holding onto this level of anger anymore. It wasn’t healthy, and I wanted to move on. I wanted to achieve a level of inner peace I’d previously never known. I wanted to really follow Jesus, which I’d learned by this point is a very narrow path, but if I could at least try, perhaps it’d benefit me in ways I’d never imagined. What did I have to lose, really?

Once I’d made the choice to really commit to the process, I realized very quickly how excrutiating it was to do so. I’d given up smoking cold turkey the year before, which was an intense, brutal process that I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy. The physical withdrawal was torturous and I felt like I was going to lose my mind. Beginning the journey of forgiveness brought up the same feelings, I discovered. It was essentially the same thing—struggling to end the old ways and begin the new. It was like I had to murder a part of myself, letting that part lie writhing in agony until the bleeding ceased and it stopped breathing once and for all. Once I slayed that inner demon, I could begin to move towards the next, most important step: healing. How can you truly begin to heal if that demon is still alive, sucking the very energy you need with no remorse?

While I struggled, I decided that maybe the answer was someplace I hadn’t thought to look before: the internet. Thanks to Google, I stumbled across a few websites that gave me some food for thought. One in particular had a wealth of information about forgiveness. One section of it in particular changed my way of thinking for good. It explained that forgiveness wasn’t about thinking it was okay to be hurt by someone, or something, else. It was about no longer allowing the pain to control you. It was about taking ownership of what you’d been through and no longer being a victim. By no means did it say you’re supposed to forget what happened; it was more like standing in the face of the oppressor(s) and stating, “You no longer have any say on how I’m going to live my life. I’m letting go of all the pain you’ve caused. It’s affected me for too long, and I’ve had enough. I choose to heal now. I choose to move on.” It boiled down to a simple equation: forgiveness=peace. This was a breakthrough for me. I finally realized that my previous ideas on forgiveness were just plain wrong. I wasn’t telling my ex or my mom that what they did was okay; I was telling them that I wasn’t going to let their actions define me anymore. I’d felt controlled by all the resentment I’d harbored, and it was wearing me down every day that I continued to cling to the pain. I knew it was time to let go, finally put the past behind me, and take the first step towards healing. I had to slay those demons and not look back.

After I began to forgive, it was like a massive weight had been removed from my shoulders. I could actually breathe again; anger is like a spiritual form of asthma. Deciding to put my trust in God and realize that as hard as it was to forgive, he would be with me 100%, was liberating. I felt freer and more at peace with myself than I could ever remember. I also was reminded of just how strong I really am; it’s easy to lose sight of that in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles. But as long as I have faith that God will never abandon me, I know I can make it through whatever life throws at me. I’ve proven my resilience time and again. I know now that I can always rely on God, no matter the circumstances.

This by no means indicates I’ve got it all figured out. I’m not saying that I know everything about forgiveness, or just because I had one breakthrough means I’ll never face injustice again. On the contrary, I know I will; in fact, things have happened since that breakthrough to challenge how serious I am about this whole forgivness thing. Much like my nicotine addiction, I know this is something I’ll deal with for the rest of my life. It may have been awhile since my last cigarette, but that temptation will always be there, waiting for me to give in. As long as I face it head on and tell myself I’m not going down that road again, I’ll be a better person for it. There is no ultimate goal or gold star; it’s not about achieving some level of impenetrable spiritual armor, or about being completely enlightened to the “true meaning” of forgiveness. It’s more about acknowledging that life will throw you curveballs, and it’s up to you if you want help deciding how to handle them. It’s a continual process, but like with anything else, if you keep practicing, it gets a little bit easier each try. I don’t think God could ask for anything more.