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3:46 AM
mateng
About twelve years ago, someone hurt me (not physically). It was someone that I did not know.
I'm sure we all know that the actions of other people do not always only affect them. The actions of this particular person changed the course of my life. Well ... maybe not the course of my life ... but the way that I view it, the way that I trust, the way that I live.
The actions of this person could have destroyed me.
Twelve years ago I was confronted with a choice. A choice of becoming bitter and angry or of being willing to walk in forgiveness. I chose forgiveness. Little did I know back then, how difficult it would be. How big of a commitment I was making. How much mending it would take to make my broken heart beat properly again.
Little did I know that it wasn't as easy as just saying I forgive you. It was a daily choice. For a long long time. Years. Maybe two or three. Maybe more.
Twelve years on, it is no longer a daily choice, but every now and then I find myself faced with the practical outworking of my choice. I find myself face to face with this person in the company of mutual friends. Carrying on a conversation. Feeling the familiar feelings of the hurt rising to the surface, having to forgive again and again and again.
But making the same choice. Choosing to forgive. And being thankful for how much I have been forgiven ... how could I chose anything less ?
I'm sure we all know that the actions of other people do not always only affect them. The actions of this particular person changed the course of my life. Well ... maybe not the course of my life ... but the way that I view it, the way that I trust, the way that I live.
The actions of this person could have destroyed me.
Twelve years ago I was confronted with a choice. A choice of becoming bitter and angry or of being willing to walk in forgiveness. I chose forgiveness. Little did I know back then, how difficult it would be. How big of a commitment I was making. How much mending it would take to make my broken heart beat properly again.
Little did I know that it wasn't as easy as just saying I forgive you. It was a daily choice. For a long long time. Years. Maybe two or three. Maybe more.
Twelve years on, it is no longer a daily choice, but every now and then I find myself faced with the practical outworking of my choice. I find myself face to face with this person in the company of mutual friends. Carrying on a conversation. Feeling the familiar feelings of the hurt rising to the surface, having to forgive again and again and again.
But making the same choice. Choosing to forgive. And being thankful for how much I have been forgiven ... how could I chose anything less ?
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