forgiveness

As part of the last day of our residency every semester, we go on a silent retreat for almost twenty-fours.  It is a practice where we can let the lessons and works from the previous week sink deeply into our hearts, let our souls heal, and listen for what God is telling us through it all.  I actually have come to look forward to it as a morning where I get to sleep in after a week of sunrise chapel!  But each time I have done these silent retreats, I catch up on sleep (which we are encouraged to do) and then listen for what God is speaking to me throughout the day.  It is usually such a sweet time of inner peace and deep contentment.

This particular time, however, I began the retreat feeling particularly, and surprisingly, agitated.  I went through some of the activities and practices they give for us to do to help us focus or guide our time, and my agitation only grew.  At some point that morning I knew I needed to address a root of bitterness growing in my heart before I could really have ears to listen.  Sigh.  I love gardening but dealing with weeds has never been one of my favorite activities.  So I was not particularly happy about digging up the cause of this bitter root.  But it needed doing.  

I was holding onto a bitterness that I had to work through and I realized it had to do with someone I had been quite unloving to, in my deeds and in my words.  And, oh, I could so very quickly justify my all my actions, but that is not the point.  The point is that I obviously needed to offer forgiveness and share God’s love, regardless of the circumstances surrounding this person, because not only was it the right thing to do, but it was needed to set me free from the bitterness that could grow.  It had to happen before I could move forward.

So I started writing.  Not even really sure where my writing was going.  But an hour later I ended up with a letter.  It was a specific letter that I know spoke God’s truth to this person in their pain.  But as I later reread it, I realized that these words I wrote could, and should, apply to every one of my relationships, with everyone I know.  So I took part of my letter and shared it below, because it is not only how I seek to see my friends, family, and acquaintances, but it is how God sees them.  And I want to have God’s view.

Here is a portion of my letter that I write to you that are reading this now:

Dear Friend, 

Please do not read my letter with the mindset of crafting a mental reply, no reply is needed, but please just receive the words as they come.
This past week my most favorite teacher and respected mentor gave a lecture on ‘transforming with compassionate caring.’  In the scope of that lecture he identified two ways of unloving.  One by assault, whether anger or contentiousness or controlling, any action that is against the good of the other person.  The second by withdrawal of interest and presence that communicates the deep hurt that you are not important and do not matter.  All of this was to urge us on to the attentiveness of our own words of love and our patterns of assault and withdrawal.  The act of recognition is an act of faith that allows grace to work.  And in my own repentance and confession, I have many relationships that require God’s loving grace and mercy.

It is in that spirit and context that I want to say:
You, my friend, are beloved.
You are worthy.
You are the apple of God’s eye.
You are precious in God’s sight.
He created you just as you are for the soul purpose of delighting.
Delighting.
Delighting in your existence.
God looks at you and he smiles.
You are God’s beloved child.  And you are his friend.
Your soul knows it very well.
Please forgive me for when my words and actions did not display any of those truths.  If you need a friend, my attentiveness is not withdrawn from you.
Again, I do not require any response.  I only want that the words above that give life sink deeply into your soul, and all the rest fall away as nothing.

In Christ’s precious grip, 

Jennifer

snow-covered trestle bridge - Sumas, WA