Not Excusing — But Grieving and Forgiving

Recently, I was hurt deeply by a family member who used to be close to me. It would not be appropriate to go into the details in this public forum, but suffice it to say, my heart was gravely wounded. The hurt was so deep, in fact, that at first I did not even understand it myself. Like a bad cut with a sharp knife—it doesn’t even hurt at first. You can see both sides of your living flesh split open and for a millisecond there isn’t even blood, but then. But then. The blood starts to gush and the pain is extreme and you know that this is not a simple wound.

So it was for me. Someone said words to me that didn’t just hurt me in the present day, they reached back literally to my childhood and hurt me there too. I realized the depth of my pain when a friend rushed up to me after church just to give me a hug, say she loved me, and lavish some special treats on Sophia and Ella (in her role as “spiritual grandmother” to our girls). All of a sudden, I started to cry. Just a little. But when I was home, in the privacy of my own room, alone with Fred, I wept.

And I talked—I talked it out. What was hurting me so badly? Why was it hurting me so badly? Then I wept some more. I did what my first book (Peacemaking Women) says to do:

Feel it. Name it. Grieve it. Entrust it to God. And move on.

It sure took me a few days to allow myself to feel it, name it, and grieve it. But the “entrusting to God” part was a little bit of a rough ride too.

At first, I kept trying to excuse the other person. “He’s had a hard life.” “Her childhood was so difficult.” “He has been suffering greatly lately.” “She is very lonely and in a lot of pain.” But somehow, as always, excusing did not move my heart toward being able to actually forgive (either unilaterally—“overlooking” on The Slippery Slope of Conflict, or after going to the person and talking with them—“reconciliation” on the slope).

But do you know what did move my heart toward compassion, grace, even merciful pity, kindness, and a desire to bless? My little kids’ theology class on Easter week. As I read the Scriptures of Christ’s passion, rejection, humiliation, abandonment, and suffering, my heart was pierced. But not pierced by the wounds of a friend; not focused on ME, focused instead on CHRIST. This Glorious Man Who did not count equality with God something to be grasped, but instead made Himself nothing. The One Who became SIN in order to defeat sin, Satan, Hell itself—for us. For you. For me.

Oh, you should have seen the look of shock on the face of “my” kids in that theology class when we read of His time in the garden; his heart was breaking; he was suffering so greatly; and he asked his friends to stay with him and pray. And what did they do? They fell asleep! (Wide eyes. “I can’t believe it!”) And then he went to pray, tears of blood, and his friends, again … SLEEP. (“No way!”) Yes, way. Abandoned even by those closest to Him. But the worst was yet to come.

Not the physical suffering—that was, and is, unimaginable. We all cringed as we talked through the thorns being hammered into His head. There were actual tears as we discussed what it meant to be whipped with a leather whip with sharp rocks and pieces of glass in it. But then, when the Father turned His face away and Jesus was forsaken? It was all just too much to bear. Jesus could have stopped it all! He could have called down legions of angels to rescue Him. It was totally UNFAIR! Jesus had never, NEVER done anything wrong. So why? Why? Why did this have to happen?

For you and for me. To rescue us from our sin, Someone had to pay the price. And Jesus paid that price.

Ah. Now I’m ready. Ready to forgive anyone anything; ready to forgive any hurt in this temporal life—because Jesus forgives me, how could I possibly hold this against you?

If you are hurting today, remember to grieve! Otherwise, we just poison ourselves with our bitterness and become spiritually sick in our stoicism.

Jesus understands your sorrow. He does. He understands it far better than even YOU understand it. And you have a Comforter. A Cleft in the Rock. A Loving Shepherd who cares for His sheep. Not just a Friend, a Brother. A Rescuer. Jesus is your Prophet, Priest, and King. Run to Him. Be amazed by His glory! The Lamb without blemish who appears to have been slain but look! He is alive forever more. Your inheritance—kept for you by God, it will never spoil or perish. Living Water! the Bread of Life.

Even rotten fathers know to give good gifts to their children. How much more your Perfect, Heavenly Father? Remember—behind your temporal suffering now (behind a frowning providence), there is a sure and smiling grace (face).

Heading into my day just a little lighter—
A little less bitter—
A little more focused on the Lamb—

Your friend,
Tara B.

[A re-post from 2010]