We were on our way to a party at which I would see them: those people who hurt me way back when. It had been a few years since I battled pain, was tempted by bitterness, and came to peace with forgiving them. But now it was later and I was about to stare betrayal right in the face. I hadn't thought about that wound for so long and all of the sudden, today, I was reminded of the hurt. It made me feel nauseous. I wanted to turn around and go home.
But grownups don't run away from people they don't like.
Some grownups see them and fake nice.
Some grownups ignore them.
Some grownups play the upper hand, make sure they look real good and real happy, and look for vengeance.
For some reason I knew that none of those methods were for me.
With my brave husband's hand in mine and my eventual decision to do the hard/right thing, I talked with them. I looked them in the eyes and treated them with the respect I give all humans. It wasn't too bad. It taught me some truths about what forgiveness looks like a little further down the road:
The wound may always be a wound. Asking for forgiveness isn't the same as being "over" the injustice. Sometimes the hurt was just too deep and what happened truly was wrong. That may never change. Like a physical wound, though it may be healed, the scar tissue will always be sensitive. Things may not feel like they did before. Forgiveness leaves space for that but puts justice into the hands of the ultimate Judge. Forgiveness chooses to let go of the need to be declared right. Forgiveness eliminates pity parties and pushes away the poison of bitterness in order to find the freedom of grace.
Boundaries are still important. Being a friendly person, that nice girl that wants to be friends with everyone, I had this expectation that life after forgiveness meant becoming friends, liking each others' pictures on Facebook, and sharing family vacations someday. Forgiveness can (but most always does NOT) ensure a deep friendship. In my case, I found that close proximity did not encourage me closer to health and peace. It just bumped up against the wound and irritated it. In order to remain emotionally healthy and protect myself, I decided not to keep in touch, though I communicated my decision with grace and love. The funny thing about boundaries is that it usually builds respect. Healthy choices are contagious.
Closure may never fully come...the way you expect. Those years ago after I chose to forgive, I pictured a letter coming to me in the mail years later explaining (in graphic detail) their feelings of remorse. Along with their feelings would come a very poetic apology through which my heart would at last find its liberty. Finally then, all things would be made right. In reality, I don't really know if they realize how much they hurt me. I don't really know if they realize how incredibly hard it was to get on my knees again and again to let go. Though I may never get the closure I thought I needed from them, there's something healing about settling it with the God who sees me. Peace is the reward when you choose to be faithful.
Forgiving is hard but it gets easier. Sometimes you need to forgive someone multiple times. Saying the words aloud doesn't mean instant freedom. In my case, I needed to revisit the hurt and pry my fingers off of the desire to be right. But through having the same conversation with the Lord dozens of times, He gave me quiet steadfastness. Seeing them face-to-face years later wasn't easy. But it didn't ruin my week either. It turns out that forgiveness is an art that can be practiced and be made into something imperfectly beautiful.
Here's to grace, healing, and embracing life after forgiveness.
