Forgive and Lose Your Sight

Dear you,

So my frustration, or rather bitterness, has found a way to seep back into my heart again. I know most people think I'm so spiritual, so put together, this kind of thing shouldn't keep happening. But in the face of life, I am oh so evidently proved a faulty human. I notice when my heart has been cheated, I remember the words, the looks and feelings freely passed from you to me with eagerness one day and petty insignificance the next. I know un-justice and I almost daily bear under unpredictable mood swings of both myself and those around me.

I used to think the biggest hindrance between me and forgiveness was my memory. You see, my memory (for the most part) is quite intact and henceforth many of the petty and significant injustices are stored in a bottle - I pull them out to investigate, replay the scene and allow anger and bitterness to boil over and spill into the rest of my life. If only I could forget, maybe then I could forgive I keep thinking to myself (side note - in one significant life event, God did grant my request and taught my heart to forget).

With an active memory and no signs of Alzheimer's disease in the near future, one would think I was stuck dealing with life here. But a few years ago, my mentor spoke truth into my life that has slowly brought me freedom. (I'm paraphrasing here) "Forgiveness isn't about forgetting, it's about CHOOSING to let go. It's about looking at memories, releasing your supposed right for hatred and choosing not to hold those memories against someone anymore. It's not about forgetting the severity of what was done, but rather choosing to start a new page."

Hmmm ... that seems to remind me of someone I know. Someone I know eternally takes the crap I throw at Him, chooses to let go of His right to hate, even to destroy, and starts a new page in our relationship. What I've done is never minimized, but His almost constant words to me are: "Want to try again, ashface?" If someone could love me like this, shouldn't my own life be a mirror of that very love?

I keep holding up these shards, begging for allowance to let them pierce and do the damage they seem meant to intend - to let the words and looks passed inflict my soul and be caught up in the infection of bitterness. But Jesus keeps pressing into me, He keeps bothering me when I start letting the shards do damage; He loves me better than I love myself. Every time I pick up a shard, He shows up, reminding me of the past, making sense of seeming senselessness and brightening a world of forgotten hope with an unruly, uncontainable life.

"Lose your sight. Stop trying to make a way ahead, stop trying to put the pieces together, trust in Me, not what you can wrap your head around. Stop forcing conclusions from the pieces you can see; there's a world you're nearly oblivious to - let go of these pieces, lose your sight and let Me protect your heart."