Forgiveness can be such a tricky thing, especially when we feel justified in our offenses. We have somehow equated justification as a valid reason to hold onto something God expressly told us not to hold onto. He told us to forgive as He forgave us. And if there is anyone who has walked this earth and had justification to hold onto sins committed against them, it’s Jesus, but he doesn’t. And while He does require us to repent, which means to turn from our sin, He never once said we had to ask Him for forgiveness. He forgave us long before we were ever sorry, and He forgives us even when we’re not. The command He gave us was to forgive as He forgave. I recently sat with my daughter crying in a youth camp service, and when I asked her if everything was ok, she told me God was dealing with her heart to forgive someone specific that had hurt her deeply, and she said, “It’s so hard, because they’re not even sorry. They don’ t care that they hurt me.” And, she’s right…It IS hard.  She was concerned that if she verbalized forgiveness that she wouldn’t mean it, and therefore nothing would be “released.” I reminded her that Jesus told us to forgive them 70×7, not because they would sin against us that many times, but because it could take that many times of forgiving them for our hearts to be healed. Forgiveness can come in layers, and every time our minds or hearts are meditating on those moments, we have to forgive them again.

     Earlier this month, my father passed away, and it dredged up pain I thought I had healed from decades ago. I can tell you the exact moment unforgiveness and bitterness against my dad left me. I know where I was and what I was doing, and it wasn’t in a church or at an altar. It was in the back room of our home that I was turning into an office to surprise my husband with for his birthday. I wasn’t even having a worshipful moment when it happened, but I felt it physically leave my body, so I know someone was praying for me. I was content to hold onto that hatred, but Jesus removed it in that moment. I called my dad who I had not spoken to in over a year at that point and reconciled. Did that change my dad’s behavior? Not at all. He was still the same person, but because God had done a work in me, I was very different. Did my forgiving him mean I removed healthy boundaries to keep me and my family safe? No, but it did mean that I handled myself very differently than before. See, forgiveness doesn’t change the other person, it changes us which is why Jesus commanded us to forgive. He’s calling us higher. 

     All is well that ends well, right? Apparently not. When my dad passed, as the oldest child, I was tasked with planning his funeral and taking care of the things he left behind. While in West Virginia tending to those things, I stumbled across evidence of his abuse towards my brother and me. I immediately had to walk outside the house to catch my breath, and I had to recognize the moment for what it was…another area that still needed healing in my own heart. Being triggered by anything should be a red flag for us concerning our own hearts and not billboards for sins committed against us. It’s God’s grace that reveals the broken things in our hearts and gently coaxes us to steward the healing He so lavishly offers.  In that moment when I had every right to just walk away and let everything rot to the ground, because, “How dare he keep a memento of abuse. What kind of sicko does that,” Jesus so lovingly asked me, “When you join me in Heaven, will this moment matter?  When you are on this side of eternity will any of that matter?” I had to be honest…No, it won’t. And I had to forgive again. Not because my dad asked for it or even deserved it, but because when I hold up all of my pain and my offense to the light of eternity, I don’t see those things anymore. I only see Jesus. I want Him more than I want to hold onto any of it, and I will gladly let those things fall to the ground. 

     And anytime my heart reveals another unhealed wound? I’ll forgive again. Not because they are worthy, but because HE is worthy.