Thoughts: Forgiving II

"To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you."
~ Lewis B. Smedes

This quote rings truth.

Forgiving releases a lot of weight from one's shoulders. But it's not just them who will be relieved. You too benefit from forgiving.

To bear ill will against someone is only going to be the death of you. You pour in so much malice, so much energy, so much thought into hating someone that you don't realize you're actually trapping yourself. It's like going into a cage full of lions, and then locking yourself in with them and throwing the key away.

How would you feel if, somehow, you and your closest friend suddenly had a terrible row and the both of you would not forgive each other? If you were in the wrong, but you failed to admit your fault on your part, how would you feel? And if you regretted and begged for forgiveness, but none was given, how would you feel then?

I know a few of you who are in such a position, or instead may be the offended party. Isn't it time for the bridges to be mended? How long are you going to poison your heart and mind? To what extent will you finally give them forgiveness?

You may tell me it doesn't affect you at all. Does it now? When you look back at your life and realize you'd made the mistake of not forgiving someone for something he/she has done wrong AND could have been easily forgiven, now that you're the wiser? What would you have to say to yourself?

Heed my warning. Let bygones be bygones. Even when it hurts, grant them forgiveness.

Here's a true story (from the Reader's Digest): a woman from the Phillipines by the name of Anna once celebrated Christmas with two orphan kids - seven-year old Orly, and ten-year old Virgie. They had so much fun in the three days they were to stay with them, that her parents called the orphanage to ask for an extension. They got three extra weeks. What fun!

Soon enough, there was talk about adopting them. Young Anna soon realized that with them permanently in the family, all the attention would go to them. She wouldn't have any of it. So she did the unthinkable (for a child of age 11, it seemed a good idea): she began to sideline herself from the family. The ploy worked, and both the orphans went back to the orphanage. The both of them called and called, begging to be adopted, but it was too late. Anna's father feared she would isolate herself again. They never got to adopting them. They didn't dare.

It wasn't until years later that Anna found out about those calls. In her words, "the guilt cut through my insides. I wondered how my immaturity changed their lives." I can't imagine how their lives would have changed, for better or worse.

Anna tried tracing them, but to no avail. It seemed as though they disappeared from the face of the earth.

Anna sums it all up in her final paragraph:

"My only hope of making contact with them is if one day,... a man would in some vague way recognize me. Maybe he would approach and tell me that I seem familiar. I'd look into his eyes and say, "Why yes, we've met. I'm from the family that promised salvation but never followed through." And I'd tell him, "Orly, I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry."

Think about it. Cheers all.

"When you forgive, you in no way change the past - but you sure do change the future."
~ Bernard Meltzer