Forgiving Is Not Forgetting

It was during football season that year that someone suggested I needed to forgive.  And they were right, of course.  Without forgiving, bitterness would take root and choke out anything good in my soul.  I knew that.  I also knew that I couldn’t wait for an apology to start me working on it.  Out of concern for my own soul, I had to forgive, even if there was never an apology or even a hint at regret, remorse, or repentance.  And even if sometimes I didn’t feel like forgiving. The problem was that in my situation, forgiveness was not a one-time fix-all that I had simply failed or chosen not to do.  I worked at it every single day and often numerous times within a day.  It was not cut and dry or simple.  It was an ongoing, complicated process.  A decision made often because, unfortunately, forgiving did not mean forgetting.  The memories…the absence…the change and the consequences…all of those remained and would be long-standing, no matter how often I forgave.  This was not a singular accidental instance.  This was chosen, repeated action even when grace and pardon had been extended.  So as such, it required chosen, repeated forgiveness every time I remembered or felt that rejection.  This was not a superficial wound, but one that went deep and had to be forgiven in layers over time, as the healing happened in layers over time. 

For analogy, let’s suppose you accidentally bumped into my leg.  Maybe you were walking near me and got off balance or tripped, but it was clearly an accident.  There was no injury.  No scrape, cut, or bruise.  Not even a red mark.  Whether you say you’re sorry or not, I am able to easily forgive and forget because it was clearly an accident, and no harm was done.  I can physically carry on with movement and life as usual w/ no further thought to what happened because I feel no pain.  I can carry on emotionally and mentally because there is no confusion, fear, or mental anguish over why you hurt me because I know it was accidental.  

Now, in contrast, let’s imagine you made a choice to get involved in something that tremendously affected how you act and think.  You were caught up in the fun and freedom of it to such an extent that you were no longer very aware of me there beside you, so you bumped into my leg.  This time though, with such speed and force that it knocked me down, and I was injured badly.  Beyond superficial this time.  Deeply wounded, maybe even broken.  Whether you’re sorry or not, I want to forgive you because I realize that you may not have been thinking of hurting me when you got involved in the recklessness…BUT whether you meant to or not is irrelevant at this point because I am hurt.  Badly.  Going about my everyday life is an effort.  It is painful.  Things that I used to be able to do without much thought are hard now, or they hurt too much to try just yet.  Even remembering how it was before the injury is painful, especially when I realize things I had planned for the future won’t be possible anymore.  Dreams are shattered.  Worse than that, I wasn’t the only one injured.  Other people I love are in pain, so I hurt not only for myself but for the others too.  But despite all that, I choose to forgive you and stand with you again.  Then a short while later, you knock me down a second time.  My initial wounds are ripped open, but worse, now I hurt on a deeper level because I can’t understand why you chose to go back to something that caused pain to me and others.  I still want to forgive because 1) I love you and 2) God forgives me…but this time, it is so much harder because what hurt me wasn’t just an accident.  

Do you see how forgiveness in the second scenario was more involved?  

It was still a goal and something I wanted (for him, for myself, and for all who were injured), but it wasn’t something I could master at once when the repercussions remained as painful reminders of the injury itself.  Even now, two years later, there are consequences, areas of hurt in my children, areas of hurt in myself, or random uninvited memories that cause frustration, heartache, longing, or anger that require me to process and address what I’m feeling so that I can work at forgiving again.  Perhaps this is why Jesus said we should forgive seventy times seven – not because 490 is a magic number or that on number 491, you are free of the task of forgiveness, and that person can be dead to you.  But because sometimes the offense requires that forgiveness be an ongoing choice that you make so many times that you quit counting.  It’s work and decision and sometimes even love, because how could you begin to choose forgiveness in such a painful scenario without underlying love, compassion, and grace?  The very gifts we ourselves experience in God’s forgiveness of our wrongs against Him.  If only we had His grasp on forgiveness and His ability to wash clean the sinner and the slate.  

When we come to him with a repentant heart, He covers our trespasses in the blood of Jesus Christ and sees only that beautiful blanket of pardon rather than the ugliness beneath it.  He casts away our sins as far as the East is from the West (Psalm 103:1) and remembers them no more (Hebrews 8:12, Isaiah 43:25).  Sometimes I think, “What a blessing it would be if I could remember the hurt no more…”  But in an ironic way, the memory becomes the making.  Of a stronger woman, a bigger faith, and a better understanding of the magnitude of God’s forgiveness.  And in that sense, forgiveness is freeing, even when forgiving is not forgetting.