One of my favorite songs by girl
crush singer Sade is “Stronger than Pride.”
The opening lyrics have always been particularly meaningful
to me—
I won’t pretend/That I intend
to stop living/I won’t pretend/I’m good at forgiving …
Like Sade, I’m no good at forgiving. In fact, I’m terrible
at it. It’s one of the disadvantages of having a good memory, especially where
strong emotion is involved. I remember stuff that others have long since forgotten.
For example, I still remember, with only
a slight bit of resentment, when Mrs. Williams, my third-grade teacher,
confiscated my jump rump after she caught me deliberately turning crooked so my
classmate would lose. (I know it’s not an excuse per se, but my classmate had done the same to me—that’s how I ended
up turning.)
The point is, I really know how to hold a grudge. If I want
to forgive you, I know how to and I will. But the problem is that I’m often
content to not forgive you. I’m actually happy being bitter. And make no
mistake, this is a problem, because bitter is not what I’m called to be.
There’s a man—he shall remain nameless—for whom I’ve been
harboring quite a bit of unforgiveness. This individual let me down big time
and in so doing hurt me significantly and caused me to lose something dear. And
until very recently, I was more or less okay with hating this person.
Then he got sick, and everyone started looking at me like I
should care. But I didn’t. Not exactly. Truthfully, when I heard the news I
thought, “Well, heck. He made me
sick. I guess payback is a you-know-what.”
But do you know that no one in my family would support my expressions
of ill will? Lousy Christians. No one called me out, but they all shook their
heads, or did the tsk tsk thing, or said stuff like “Crystal, that’s not very
nice.” Even my son (I won’t say which one), who has not yet made a profession of
Christ, frowned when I made a snide comment.
So, I knew it was time for some serious prayer, and it went
something like this:
“Lord, I don’t really feel like forgiving this person, okay?
But I know you want something else for me. So, you go ahead and do your thing.
I won’t resist.”
Kind of a crappy prayer, you might say. But it was honest.
And guess what? That very day, actually that very hour, my bitterness and anger
toward this person was released. And, it felt good.
Now, all my hurt feelings could still be rekindled if I
think on certain things too much, but I don’t care to do that anymore. Instead,
I prefer to pray for this person and hope that God does a mighty work in his
life, like He did in mine.
Shoot, I might even buy this man a get-well card … and send
it. Let’s pray that I will.
Great article Crystal. Perhaps your great memory will remember this moment as joyous, uplifting, and the breaking of a new day... or maybe you'll regret caring for a man who did not care for you. Haha.
ReplyDeleteIt's like that Robert Frost poem about two paths in the road, and we always have the choice to determine which path to take.
Today, I'm so proud to see you take the path less chosen-- that good path towards forgiveness and no more bitterness.
" ... or maybe you'll regret caring for a man who did not care for you " Hank, you're too funny!
ReplyDelete"He must increase, but I must decrease ..."