On Forgiveness

The ways of God are not the ways of man. 

Humans are not wired to forgive.  At least, no one in my household seems to be.  I need to buy myself an entire wardrobe of black and white referee shirts, because that’s what I do from the moment I pick up the kids until they finally drift off to sleep at night.  Sometimes the first fight happens before we even leave daycare.  I’ve been pushing the whole “be a gentleman and open doors” thing in a big way, and now Eli sprints down the steps to get to the door first.  He has a good two years of agility on Caleb, which means that every day I don’t intervene ends with Caleb sprawled on the filthy tile floor by the door because he “DIDN’T GET TO BE A GENTLEMAN!”  And if I do intervene and make Eli wait for Caleb to open the door, I get a five-year-old with his bottom lip popped out sullenly refusing to take another step toward the van.  Obviously I enjoy both scenarios immensely. 

I keep telling them, “This doesn’t matter.  SOMEONE held the door for Mommy and Violet and that’s all that matters.  Didn’t get a turn today?  Enjoy walking through that door.  Tomorrow will be your turn.  What matters most is that we are at peace.”  I guess I talk a few years above them because that lesson has yet to sink in.  They would rather have a knock-down, drag-out fight about a door than enjoy the rest of a lovely fall afternoon with their family.  In the immortal words of Elsa, “LET IT GO, KIDS!  LET IT GO!”

Which brings me to last Sunday’s service at church and some hard-hitting words on forgiveness.  Our pastor made the point that if we want to know the ways of God, we have to obey him.  And He commands us to forgive.  Over and over again.  No matter the offense.  This. Is. So. Hard.  To me, forgiveness feels like saying, “It’s OK.”  Yes, go ahead and disrespect me again.  By all means, keep taking advantage of me.  Yes, I enjoy being accused of things I didn’t do.  Let’s keep things the way they are because I just love being treated like crap.  But that isn’t forgiveness.  I don’t know where the line is drawn between defending yourself and letting it go, but I suspect that God is standing over me pointing to the beautiful day and asking, “Do you want to miss this because your heart is clinging to your rage?” 

I have so much I’ve been hanging on it, so much hurt that I am justified to carry.  But it is just weighing me down.  And I can feel it…just a little bit of peace…when I say, “God, take it.”  His ways don’t make sense to the world.  But forgiveness doesn’t make me a doormat.  It makes me free.  Free to enjoy the tiny people I get to raise.  Free to enjoy the blessings God has given.  Free to hope for the future. 

I want to know God’s ways, so I’m doing my best to step out on this one and release my anger to God.  I suspect this will be a daily, maybe even hourly battle, but it is one I know He'll help me with.

Because God’s ways are not like ours.