This is the second devotion in a three-part series on forgiveness. If you have not already done so, you might find it helpful to read the first part, Forgiveness: What It Is, What It Isn’t. Part three in the series can be found here.
Here’s where the rubber meets the road. We’ve learned what forgiveness means and what it doesn’t mean. We now need to look at how forgiving looks in our relationships with others. Of course, we’ll also look at what forgiveness doesn’t mean, because again, there are some very common misconceptions we need to overcome.
First, though, I’d like to share a story about forgiveness. It perfectly illustrates much of what we’re going to talk about today.
The story involves my son Kenny and his favorite toy at the time: his wooden train set. Kenny had a huge set of wooden trains, tracks, and various accessories. He liked to spread them out all over creation, building intricate layouts that covered more square miles than a real city. One day, he had created a metropolis in the highly-trafficked area between our master bedroom, bathroom, computer room, and guest room. His sisters were off in another part of the house playing a game that apparently involved lots of running around and giggling. I was sitting at the computer working a few feet away from Kenny when I heard Lindsey’s running footsteps getting closer. She darted into the room and right into the middle of Kenny’s train set, stopped, looked both ways, then ran back the other way.
“Hey! You stepped on my toy!” Kenny called after her.
She didn’t hear him. She was already on the way back to her own game.
Kenny waited briefly for her response, but there was none. So he called after her, “I forgive you!” and went back to his trains.
That, precious mom, is the nature of forgiveness. It involves knowing an offense has been committed, knowing that therefore, forgiveness is needed, and deciding to grant that forgiveness whether or not the offender even knows he or she needs it.
True, this is different from the forgiveness God offers, which comes only after sincere repentance. He forgives this way because His completely righteous, holy nature demands that sin be paid for. It’s His nature—and His job description—to require payment for sin. But it’s not our nature. And it’s not our job.
When we choose to forgive those who don’t deserve it, we reflect His nature and bring Him glory. Forgiveness for us does not and should not come only after payment has been made. We do not say to others, “You have adequately paid for your sin; therefore, I forgive you.” Instead, we say, as Kenny did, “You have offended me. But I forgive you, which means I choose not to punish you for what you did. And I do that so that I can move on.”
I want us to look at those two things today: what it means (and doesn’t mean) to forgive but not punish; and how we move on.
We’ve already talked about how it’s not our job to punish. Most of us would agree with that, at least in theory. But if we are not to punish the offender, does that mean we must seek an intimate relationship with the offender? Does it mean we need to act towards the offender as if he or she had never offended us? Not necessarily. For some offenses, yes. But for others, absolutely not.
For example, if I invite my best friend to come have lunch with me, and she accidentally steps on my foot on her way into the house, then yes, I need to let it go and not let it affect our level of intimacy. If my child forgets to put her bicycle away, that shouldn’t affect our level of closeness.
On the other hand, if—may God forbid!—someone were to molest one of my children, I would NOT seek intimacy with that person. I would NOT continue as if the violation had never happened. Instead, I would put safeguards in place for the rest of the offender’s life so that the offender could never hurt my child again.
So the first thing forgiveness doesn’t mean in terms of our relationships with others is that we don’t necessarily have to act as if nothing ever happened. Some offenses are simply too awful; some are ongoing, and we may need to erect boundaries, not for the purpose of punishing the offender, but for the purpose of protecting ourselves and our loved ones.
Another thing forgiveness doesn’t mean is that it doesn’t necessarily come as a response to the other person’s asking for forgiveness. Sometimes, your offender might truly repent and desire your forgiveness. Many other times, the offender might feel mere remorse, or perhaps not even that. The offender might not acknowledge the offense, or might deny that it was as bad as it was. But forgiving doesn’t mean you have to wait for that person to see the offense as God sees it. You can admit—completely independent of whether the offender agrees with you or not—that you have been sinned against. You can even admit how bad it was. After all, God knows how bad it was. You can agree with Him in this.
Now, let’s talk about what forgiveness does mean. We’ve said before that forgiveness means deciding not to punish the offender. That includes verbal comments, which means no snide or sarcastic remarks to or about the offender. These comments reflect bitterness in our hearts, which means we haven’t truly forgiven—we’re still holding onto at least a little bit of the idea that “he/she owes me something.” No deliberately excluding the offender from places you would normally invite him or her, unless that is necessary for protection. No rehashing the offense over and over in your mind or to others so they can be angry with you about how bad it was. Granted, there are times you will need to seek counsel or simply comfort from others when someone has offended you. But there is a difference between talking about the offense for the purpose of receiving comfort and talking for the purpose of stirring up your emotions so that you can feel righteously (or unrighteously) angry.
Forgiveness also means leaving the door open for a restored relationship as much as that might be possible. As we’ve said, there are some situations where that won’t be possible or desirable. But there are many other situations where if the person were truly to repent and demonstrate a changed heart, some degree of restoration might be possible.
One more thing that forgiveness isn’t—at least not necessarily. It may not be a one-time action. Forgiveness may very well be a repeated action. Every time the offense comes to our mind, we must continue to choose forgiveness and refuse to punish or to dwell on angry thoughts. That doesn’t mean we must forget what happened. It means we shouldn’t stew about it. We shouldn’t let it take control of our thoughts until it’s all we can think about, or until it begins to grow into bitterness. We must constantly and consistently choose forgiveness every time we remember the offense, and that may be hundreds or even thousands of times. Forgiveness isn’t easy. It always costs the one who chooses to forgive. It costs your “right” to punish, to demand recompense from the offender. It costs your thought life and your emotional energy.
With such a high cost, then, why bother forgiving? Because it’s even harder on you not to forgive. Continuing to hang on to the offense will cost your mind, heart, and emotions, but at a much higher level than forgiveness. To the degree that you have not forgiven, you will be stuck at that point until you do forgive. And if the offense is truly that bad, that’s not a point at which you want to be stuck.
God doesn’t tell us to forgive so that the offender can “get away with something”. The offender will not get away; he or she will one day answer to God for any offense against you. Rather, He tells us to forgive so that we can heal. He is the Great Physician, and He knows exactly what is necessary to heal a broken heart. He knows how to release us from the painful chains binding us to what happened to us. When we’re stuck, knowing we should forgive but not being able to, He’ll even help us do it. He’ll help us make that decision. And as we crawl into His lap and the hurt begins to flow away, He’ll hold us close and whisper words of comfort. I’m here. I will heal you. One day, you will be whole.
Psalm 71:20-21—You will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up. You will increase my honor and comfort me once again.