forgiveness (v)
March 19, 2015 § 5 Comments
Forgiveness is a tricky blessing, it dismisses us of the burden of our armor while leaving our hearts more susceptible to harm. We are at once both liberated and bound by faith in want of trust. It is an awkward, painful experience of hope. A terrifying leap without a net.
I am, by nature, a creature without wings. My feet drag against the earth unwilling to fly; to undress my armor and leap.
Today I spoke clearly and firmly of old hurts, pushing past the trembling voice of anxious defensiveness; laying down my pride. I honored an invitation to truth by purposefully naming needs without blame in search of understanding. Digging my heels into the moment I listened forcefully, making myself honor another’s courage to step vulnerably within painful memories.
Tonight my mind, body, and spirit are heavy with the muscle memory of letting go and holding on. I feel as if I fell through the looking glass and landed hard on uneven ground. Our normal feels too loud, uncomfortable and too eager, but it also feels like hope.
Forgiveness is a verb.
finding forgiveness
November 6, 2012 § Leave a comment
Like a pebble in my shoe, life’s joys have rattled the painful pieces free. Old harms are dusty memories tucked away in a past cluttered by the passing of years.
I used to wrestle with forgiveness, grasping for a sense of closure as I mapped a path towards peace. I could list the harm, write letters intimately naming the transgressions against me. Then, one day, a question that would have previously tugged at sorrow or ruffled anger found an empty place. Echos of words that once cast long shadows over bright moments no longer consumed enough of my heart or mind for their darkness to shade my joy. Forgiveness was something found not made.
I am holding tightly to this discovery as I make my way through uncomfortable emotions. As the holidays approach anxiety for the strain of difficult company tugs at my patience and I am breathing deeply, intentionally inviting hope and peace among uncertainty and frustration, embracing my newfound awareness that this too shall pass.
inheritance
July 24, 2011 § 2 Comments
When we get married we inherit new family with old stories. Woven beneath traditions are habits that can foster a feeling of connection as naturally as they can make one feel misplaced. Nostalgia gleans over difficult moments while basking in happier times. Sometimes we find a place of belonging and other times we struggle to wade through unmarked territory.
My husband and I met one another’s family in our Sunday best; everyone sparkled, poised and polished, on their best behavior. Over time health concerns, conflicting opinions, and irreversible mistakes have piled sloppily between us creating boundaries. Spaces marked with sadness or anger that we tiptoe over and around. I wonder, is it better to create a quiet space marked by limits to preserve feelings or do we remove walls and accept what we struggle to forgive?
I won’t strip away the simple dignity that accompanies privacy with details; this space where I set aside my thoughts feels deceptively intimate. Still, I cannot believe that something as universal as family would go unshared even among strangers. So I’ll pose these questions to no one in particular. How do we love openly with different values? How do we find our way when we close our eyes to ward off hurt? Is it more painful to forget or remember?
fireworks and forgiveness
July 3, 2011 § 1 Comment
A neighborhood 4th of July party gave me lazy, happy hours among friends and a moment of raw awareness with my son. My guard down, I had settled into the festivities when my eye caught my son’s face. Angry, emotional sparks snapped at the air around him. I drew him to me and guided him to a quiet corner of our guests’ home. Slowly I acknowledge new, painful truths for my son and myself. He isn’t okay and neither am I.
In angry accusing tones my son lashed out at peers for perceived unkindness and at me for not defending him. In fairness to the children, his anger was not born of their behavior. In fairness to my son, I could not give him the fierce defense he sought. We sat, side by side, separated by equal parts pain and grief.
The moment passed and we parted, each resigned to our own hurt. My son withdrew into a space of his own and I let my own frustrations spill in a wave of need to a friend, her compassion allowing me a cleansing release. The remainder of the evening passed without fireworks, but forgiveness for things we cannot control weighs heavy on my heart.
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