Forgiving the Moment

It is for freedom that Christ set you free.

It could only be the turmoils of my heart that could so keep me awake on such a night after so many days of exhaustion and sickness.

Hurt people hurt people.

I'll never forget the deep truth held in such a statement. People with knives and daggers and arrows left sticking out of their hearts are dangerous to be close to. Such pain nd brokenness left uncared for can only reproduce the pain and bitterness it breeds.

Forgiveness is a miracle for bringing about healing but its a wonder to me at how times one finds oneself reliving old pain. I have come to the conclusion that when Jesus told us to forgive 70 times 7 times, He meant it for one single offense. And 70 x7 for the next one after that. I'm amazed that I can forgive one person of an offense and feel whole and then somehow it comes back and hurts again and  re forgive. I've often wondered if I'm doing something wrong. If I'm failing to be genuine. But every time I really actually desire that The Lord grant me the ability to forgive and I have felt at peace every time as well.

But peace and forgiveness doesn't change the past. It doesn't erase the sleepless nights or the endless amount of tears dropped on my pillow. Peace doesn't put the pieces back together, it simply fills in the cracks. Forgiveness doesn't glue one's heart back together, it just takes out the sharp things shoved into it. 

That isn't to say one can never be whole again. Of course you can! Jesus does that part. But our perception of whole tends to be "back to normal" or "returned to the state I was before I was broken."
Such a thing cannot exist. If it did, The Lord would never break us. Afterall, what would be the point? I think the point of being shattered is so that The Lord can get out his extra clay and use the filling to make our vessels a little bigger and more unique. With every break and repair, more fabric is added and thus the size has increased.

But how is it do we remember what shattered us and not feel the pain? How do we extend grace and love and forgiveness back to that very moment of devastation? That is where I struggle most. My sleepless nights of my present seem to be echos of sleepless nights of my past. My tossings and turnings bring me back to the tossings and turnings of some of the darkest, emptiest nights of pure rejection and loneliness in the rawest form. 

And it's no longer true. What was once true of my past, being rejected, being unwanted, being broken and discarded, they are not true of me now. I am surrounded by acceptance and approval and need and encouragement. But I am still coming to learn how to embrace the truth of today and throw off the pain of chapters now closed. 

I'm not good at that part, though. Forgetting an experience. I can forget names and exam material without missing a beat. But not the darkness. Every scar has a story. No one points to a raised white line on their arm and says, "I forgot this one." People can be quick to recall, "I fell off my bike" or "I tripped in PE when I was in 1st grade." 

I don't suppose God meant for us to forget. How would we ever remember a heroic rescue without a desperate need of being saved? How would we ever know what joy or healing was without first having experienced sorrow and brokenness?

He was rejected. He still is. And when I cry on my pillow and recount to him the pain of being unwanted, He doesn't take it away. He simply puts in arm around my shoulder and says, "me too." And then like Mary and Martha, we share the moment. That part where Jesus wept? Well, He's done it lots.  He reminds me that we drink the same cup. He didn't come to give me a rosey-posey life of bliss. He came so that in my death, I would have life.

In the mean time, He takes me back to the broken times to remind me that my heart is stil tender and that I should guard that wellspring with every ounce of strength The Lord provides. He takes me back to remind me that some wounds are deeper and take more time. And until the wound heals into a scar, forgiveness must be applied generously and a bandage of peace wrapped gently over it.
He takes me back to the moments I needed Him most and makes it obvious He still wants to be there.

I hate to remember when my heart has been shredded, but, if it is the price of remembering how the Lords hand reached into the deepest places and stitched and stapled it back together, I will be thankful for how it s