It is difficult to forgive an injury, but it’s the forgetting part that is the real bitch. And a mistake. Raise your hand if you can forget. Now put it down – you are kidding yourself. Don’t get all pissy here. There is a method to my madness.
We live in an undeniably imperfect world inhabited by imperfect people. We all screw up. Some more than others; I’m a member of the first group, damn it.
We hurt each other. We love each other. We still hurt each other. That’s where forgiveness comes in, over and over. When I can’t forgive something/anything, the bad feelings I store literally eat me alive. So, forgiveness is not an option for me. My interior cannot take the stress. I’m imperfect. When I screw up, it hurts someone. When I realize what I’ve done, I am beyond sad to think I could be so awful. If I am to experience being forgiven, then I must practice forgiveness first. Okay, one down, one to go.
Forget? There is an option here. I can say I have forgotten an injury yet hold on tightly to the bad, whipping it out when threatened. Armed with an emotional weapon. Or, I can learn what didn’t work, try to understand why it happened, and find a positive alternative. Then, when a hurtful situation looms on the horizon, I remember to blow out the match before it ignites an emotional, hurtful fire.
Forgive, learn, remember.
God help me.