Forgiveness

If you haven't yet read The Shack by William P. Young, you need to, and as soon as possible. It is one of the most moving stories I have read in my lifetime. I get emotional just thinking about the way Mr. Young lays out the relationship of the protagonist with the Father. Yes, it is a work of religious fiction, Christian in fact, but in a good way. Regardless of your spiritual proclivities, you will no doubt recognize the profound need mankind has for a relationship with others and especially with The Creator.

In brief, it is the story of a man who loses his youngest child, a daughter, to the whims of a murderous madman during a camping trip in the mountains of Eastern Oregon. Police follow his tracks to a cabin in the woods where her bloody dress is found. Her body is never discovered. Five years later, the father is awakened from his grief-stricken, sleep-walking state and bidden to the cabin in the woods at the behest of The Lord, God Almighty, going by the nickname of Papa. Following is an excerpt from the book:

"Mack, for you to forgive this man is for you to release him to me and allow me to redeem him."
"Redeem him?" Again Mack felt the fire of anger and hurt. "I don't want you to redeem him! I want you to hurt him, to punish him, to put him in hell..." His voice trailed off.
Papa waited patiently for the emotions to ease.
"I'm stuck, Papa. I just can't forget what he did, can I?" Mack implored.
"Forgiveness is not about forgetting, Mack. It is about letting go of another person's throat."
"But I thought you forget our sins?"
"Mack, I am God. I forget nothing. I know everything. So forgetting for me is the choice to limit myself. Son," Papa's voice got quiet and Mack looked up at him, directly into his deep brown eyes, "because of Jesus, there is now no law demanding that I bring your sins back to mind. They are gone when it comes to you and me, and they run no interference in our relationship."
"But this man..."
"But he too is my son. I want to redeem him."
"So what then I just forgive him and everything is okay, and we become buddies?" Mack stated softly but sarcastically.
"You don't have a relationship with this man, at least not yet. Forgiveness does not establish relationship. In Jesus, I have forgiven all humans for their sins against me, but only some choose relationship. Mackenzie, don't you see that forgiveness is an incredible power - a power you share with us, a power Jesus gives to all whom he indwells so that reconciliation can grow? When Jesus forgave those who nailed him to the cross they were no longer in his debt, nor mine. In my relationship with those men, I will never bring up what they did, or shame them, or embarrass them."
"I don't think I can do this," Mack answered softly.
"I want you to. Forgiveness is first for you, the forgiver," answered Papa, "to release you from something that will eat you alive; that will destroy your joy and your ability to love fully and openly. Do you think this man cares about the pain and torment you have gone through? If anything, he feeds on that knowledge. Don't you want to cut that off? And in doing so, you'll release him from a burden that he carries whether he knows it or not - acknowledges it or not. When you choose to forgive another, you love him well."

So okay, my hurt isn't quite that tragic, but it is mine. I have nurtured it for years. It has molded me, shaped me, deeply impacted all my other relationships. It is part of who I am. I have tried on repeated occasions to reconcile this broken relationship, tried to bridge the gap. And every time the street commission comes out and puts a "bridge out" sign up and that's all she wrote.

You have stolen 8 years of my niece and nephews' lives from me. You have caused my son to grow up with no real cousins, and you know how close he and Kevin where. It was not bad enough I was an orphan, you had to take away my only sister, even if we were never going to be bffs, you were all I had. You hurt me. Really, really hurt me. And then tried to ruin my relationships with the rest of my family. And for what?

I learned a long time ago to compartmentalize the pain so that I could at least function. I learned to hide the softest parts of me. I used to keep a little back, but after that, I learned to keep a LOT back. Something broke in me, something I fear will never be repaired.

I have tried to be a good friend to those around me. I have been blessed with a fantastic group of friends that have served as surrogate family, surrogate sisters. They are wholly undeserved, as I have never be able to give to them as much as they give to me. And until I forgive you, wholly and completely, I never will.

And then came the cancer. You had to go and get the same damn disease that killed our dear, sweet mother. I cry foul! That's not fair. Now I'm expected to be the bigger man. I'm the older sister so I'm just supposed to "do the right thing" and I'm not ready to. I've become very familiar with my pain. It's like a pair of old slippers, not entirely comfortable, but reliable. Plus, I'm tired of being the one that has to go first. I'm tired of trying to make things right and having you slam another rejection in my face.

But you trumped my selfish need to hold on to my ugly. So, my sister, I forgive you. I release you from all wrongs perpetrated against me, whether real or imagined. I wipe the slate clean, for real this time. Tabula Rasa.

Ball's in your court.

Dear Heavenly Father, Please come into my heart and wash away the burden of grief and hurt I feel toward my sister and renew a right spirit within me. Amen