The Timeless Art of Forgiving

Gardening is not my thing, but I do believe forgiveness is the fertile soil from which authentic freedom blossoms. In giving and receiving forgiveness I have been transformed spiritually, emotionally and physically. It has given me the latitude to love and grow in ways that remained locked up in my spirit until I sampled the fruit of the hard work of forgiving for myself. The work is hard, but the prize is so much sweeter than a day’s wages spent before its shadow can grace an open palm.

Finger-pointing, gossiping, back-biting, embellishing, dredging up history so old I was the only one who remembered: this was my retort to the hurt I felt when someone who should have loved me didn’t. The unspeakable names, the complete disregard for my parenting prerogative, the attack on my very being…and on and on continues the list of crimes perpetrated over several years. Perhaps you’ve been figuratively kicked to the curb yourself.

In the retelling of these events I will not get too reacquainted with them, but even so, in an effort to set the stage, my spirit is twisting inside and it spits at me. Those familiar claws are once again scratching at my chest. True forgiveness does not rehash or recount transgressions so I have to ask myself, “Have I truly forgiven?” and in this very moment I will extend forgiveness, unsolicited, yet another time for the same old offenses. The contortion of my spirit loosens, the scratching transitions to caressing. I have done this too many times to count.

For years I was stuck in the pain and in my right to an apology. There were never any spoken words of remorse or regret. If I was going to move forward out of the pain and into freedom I was actually going to have to make the first move. To wait for an apology that may never come, left me dependent upon someone else to act. I couldn’t wait. I was finished being stuck. Nowhere had I read or heard that the childhood pattern of “I’m sorry-I forgive you,” had to be invoked in order to unleash the magic of forgiveness. So with all the grace I had, fueled by the many times forgiveness had been extended to me, I forgave. The benefits were not instantaneous, the lasting kind never are. Over time the absence of apology ceased to keep me in chains. I was set free to love more deeply even in the very relationship that paralyzed me for so long.

I’m not sure I can forget, but I do know I can forgive. I have to forgive. It’s selfish really. I will continue to pursue forgiveness as a gift freely given-no strings attached. I’ll not dictate conditions under which to extend it nor ask for anything in return. I will also receive it liberally from others and from myself each and every day without constraint, always comprehending the unrivaled cost.

Reflections

While writing this essay I was re-schooled in the finer points of forgiveness and reminded of the consequences of bringing up old hurts, chewing on them and once again considering ownership. Even though my purpose in listing the general offenses was to present the back story, my old friends, bitterness and resentment, came knocking harder with each touch of the keypad. Yes, I did forgive all over again and of course those two old friends went scurrying back into the dark as the light of freedom chased away their shadows.

~Deanne R. Turnage