Forgiveness

Many families across America are facing tough economic times. Mine and my husband's families are no exception. To make Christmas more comfortable for everyone, my in-laws decided last year that the adults should draw names. We then create lists of items under $20 that we would like and circulate it around to the families. This year I had "any book by Beth Moore" on my list.

I lucked out this year and got two books by Moore from my "secret Santa," my sister-in-law, Charlotte. I think God led her to the books, Praying God's Word and Get out of that Pit. I was ecstatic when I opened the books, but quickly decided to read Praying God's Word first, because I am definitely not in a pit.

Well, as it so happens, I am not usually one to read one book at a time. It's not that I love reading so much that I just have to have multiple books going. It's that I have a knack for leaving my books wherever I finished reading them last. Frustrated that I cannot find the book I want, I grab whichever book I find first.

That is where I found myself just yesterday morning. I could not find Praying God's Word, so I grabbed Get Out of that Pit. Well, it only took the first chapter for Beth to do what she usually does in her books, and that's candidly point out that I can indeed, learn something from what God has taught her on any particular topic.

Today, I chose Get out of that Pit on purpose. I was sure that since Beth had convinced me through scripture that I had been in pits in the past and may possibly be in one now, I should keep reading. Afterall, if I was in a pit I didn't want to stay there!

As I began chapter two, I heard myself saying, YES! Somebody understands that sometimes we are thrown into pits. Sometimes we are treated like Joseph, where people we love and trust throw us into a big, deep, dark, inescapable hole, with a nasty dirt floor. Sometimes we are in a pit because someone hurt us, and we suffer because of their sins. YES, I thought. I DESERVE to be here. Let those who threw me in come help me out!

Now, why is it that I felt this way? Simply put, my husband was laid off in March 2009 by a church. Not just any church, either. One of the largest and most alive churches of our denomination in the area. And it wasn't done in love. My husband's name was smeared, as he was accused of stealing. And he was threatened with loss of his small severance if he did not fulfill a list of demands, namely that he stay for a week to train a replacement. Now, my husband was the church's creative director, with years of training from the Savannah College of Art and Design. To even insinuate that he should or even could pass on his knowledge in one week was ludicrous and an insult to his professionalism.

My daughter was only three months old. I have epilepsy. We were in debt up to our eyeballs and trying to fight our way out of it using the lessons we learned from Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University.

It was at that low point that we were about to lose our income, our health insurance, and our network. Was I mad at God? No. But I was spitting mad at His people. I had trusted them. I had sacrificed six out of seven evenings per week with my husband for them. I had opened up my heart and my life, and they poured boiling oil onto my exposed soul.

So, YES, I thought. YES! I was thrown in that pit, and now Beth is giving me the affirmation I needed that it was not my fault that wrong was done to me!

So, naturally, I kept reading. Beth was making me feel better, afterall. Then she said what I did not want to hear. Forgive them, she said. Forgive them? I'm pretty sure I've already done that, Beth. I am a Christian, after all. I mean, I went to Bible college. I know that we are commanded to forgive, and I've done it.

Oh, really? I felt the Sprit gently probe. Do you love them? Would you speak to them if you saw them in Wal-Mart? What would you do if you saw them in public? How would you react? How would you respond if your daughter announced she had a new friend with one of their last names?

Instantly I recalled that I had often pictured one of the church members with horns under his hair. And just last week I dreamt I was in a fist-fight with another one. I woke from that dream invigorated, and told my husband that it felt so real, that I was downright just as happy as if I really had beat the woman up.

So, I hadn't forgiven them.

But God, we would have been out of debt by now if it weren't for them. We'd have money saved if it weren't for them. My daughter would have other kids to play with, and would have had a baby dedication if it weren't for them. If it weren't for them we would never have been in this pit, we'd have friends, we'd be better off.

I kept on reading. Beth reminded me that God knows the plans He has for us. That God never lies. That God never orchestrates sin. And that God sometimes lets us get thrown, like Joseph, into a pit, so that He can use us to bless others.

But then the clincher. The Spirit reminded me of a verse my husband read to me just last night. "...Christ Jesus died for us, and he is sitting in the place of honor at God's right hand, pleading for us." (Romans 8:34) It hit me like a ton of bricks. Jesus Christ was spat upon, slapped in the face, falsely accused, mocked, mistreated, abused, abandoned, and betrayed. Yet He pleads for us. Kim, those people sinned against you, but they are also my children. Christ pleads for them, as well.

Suddenly, I realized how unfathomable it is for me to withhold forgiveness. What? Did I actually think I was above CHRIST? He didn't shout from the cross, commanding hail the size of mini vans to destroy human kind. He didn't curse from the cross, telling humanity that they deserved hell, and that He'd be happy to send them there. No. He asked God to forgive them because they did not know what they were doing. He didn't say, "Father, they are killing the son of God, so make them suffer for it!" That's what I would have said. Actually, I would have asked for Him to let ME make them suffer.

In the words of Paul, Oh wretched man that I am!

I went to my husband and told him what was on my heart. We prayed together, and named all the names of everyone involved in throwing us into our pit. We prayed for God's blessing on their lives. We told God we forgave some for hurting us on purpose, and that we forgave others for not realizing how they hurt us. We asked for the strength to lay down the anger and never pick it up again. We asked for the grace to pray for them every time we were tempted to step back into our pit. We got really honest, and named names from our more distant past. The list was really long. My shame, very great. To think I had a right to hold on to my pain, and that I have been living in a pit for so long. How dirty my soul must look. How stuck in the mud of my pit before I looked to the only One who could pull me out, and clean me up.

He was waiting the whole time.

I do not know how He can love me, I sure do not deserve Him. I accept His love and forgiveness, however hard it is for me to grasp. Without Him, I would be in a pit forever, no better than it's dirt floor.