Forgiving When You Don’t Feel Like It.

The best time to choose to forgive is when you don’t feel like it.

Spoken like a pro when choosing forgiveness was an almost impossible task for nearly two years while living in the memory of what once was but would never be again.

You see, the trick of the enemy is just that- a trick of the enemy. When Satan can accomplish getting you in a state of living in your emotions, however validated they may be, he’ll trick you into believing that hurt is your resting place.

And when you choose hurt as your temporary residence, it’ll be harder with each passing day to make forgiveness your permanent home.

I could write a novel on the topic. I could share the details of what led my heart into the captivity of unforgiveness, but instead, I’d rather share the fact that forgiveness is possible.

Easy to say, not always easy to do.

So, a few years ago, there was this guy named Peter. He asked Jesus, “Hey, how many times do you think this sucker who’s done me dirty deserves for me to forgive?” (Matthew 18:21-22 translated by @InsideThePastor’sWife, you’re welcome.) Yet, we find Jesus in all of His 100% God, yet 100% man responding to Peter that a mere seven times wasn’t enough.

But we’re to have a seventy times seven kind of forgiveness.

Even when you don’t feel like it. Especially when you don’t feel like it.

Over the past two years, I’ve experienced something like I never have before. The affects of what abuse of power and leadership within a church can be like. What the ill results of religious trauma can do to a heart and life, and I don’t say that lightly. I’ve shared post after post about experiencing a hypocrite within the church house- unfortunately, I’ve witnessed it more than I believed possible these past few years.

Not within the walls of our Father’s House- the one with that Pastor Mailman, the one that my heart calls home. No, but among people who once felt family.

I’ve read comments and messages from strangers on the internet boldly proclaiming that if I had personally experienced hurt within a church, I wouldn’t so loudly continue to encourage my readers to give church another try.

But that isn’t all Christians, and that’s not all churches.

Here’s the thing- the haven God had already prepared at our own little church has been where I’ve found the healing balm for my wounded and bruised heart.

The process of my mental and emotional healing has been a long one, and if it hadn’t been for walking this road with that Mailman Pastor and my closest few, I don’t know where my state of mind would be at the moment. Truly.

I lived in a state of grief for so long that it became uncomfortably comfortable. I accepted that a lingering ache in the corner of my heart was my new normal. I’ve mourned the years I poured into something I fully believed in, and now I still find myself trying to piece together answers to too many questions. I’ve asked God a thousand times if years of ministry were labored in vain.

But in my questioning, through prayer, I found a most unexpected answer. God reminded me that it’s His job to fix others and mine to trust Him to fix me.

And if I ever want to live a life that reflects genuine revival, I must live a life that reflects authentic forgiveness.

Forgiveness, but nothing.

Forgiveness with no strings attached.

Forgiveness with no stipulations.

Forgiveness with no grudges.

And in forgiveness, I’ve found peace.

Peace, that while I can’t undo the hurt that has been caused to many, I can do everything within my power to protect it from happening to others. Peace that maybe I can help the hurting find healing. Peace that I can strive, with the help of God, to continue creating a safe place, a refuge, within the walls of that grey-colored church we’ve outgrown. I can make it my mission to love people without reservation. And I can continue striving to live my life in a manner that preaches that not all who claim the title of Christian are fraudulent.

I’ve had an unwanted ticket to a front-row seat of the ugly side of religion, yet it’s the personal relationship I’ve found in my religion that has held me together. The negative I’ve experienced has only served to reignite a passion anew to leave the legacy of that little grey-colored church on Cain to my children. One that surpasses my lifetime.

If you’ve read through my heart that’s formed into these words before your eyes, then maybe it’s because you need someone to tell you it’s time to choose just that, dear reader.

Choose forgiveness when it hasn’t been asked for. Choose it for your family. Choose it for your church. Choose it for your ministry. Choose it for all the people who are depending upon you to do so. Choose it for yourself.

But above all, choose forgiveness because Christ chose it for you.

And in choosing forgiveness, my dear reader, you’ll be choosing revival.

It’s time to choose revival.