Saturday, June 8, 2013

forgiveness, the flip side

I read a post today written by someone who was seemingly deeply deeply sincere in her desire to help. She seems to have put her heart as deeply into the soul tearing pain of others as someone who is not being buried by the avalanche can. I imagine her words touched deep places that desperately need to be acknowledged in some very broken people. A few short years ago they would have pulled a river of tears from my eyes but no more.

She spoke of forgiveness. She spoke of the healing power of God’s forgiveness, of the sacrifice of Jesus’ blood, of the human inability to right our own wrongs or forgive our own sins…

What if I’m not the one who needs forgiveness?

Yeah, you might want to stop reading now.

What if this time I’m the one who would have to forgive? Yeah, I said it. It’s what’s in my head, what’s tearing at the walls of my shattered heart.

This isn’t my only issue with God, with faith, with Christianity. I have some serious foundational questions but I won’t get into those here. Here I will drop this bomb. What if I can’t forgive God for what he has done to me?

Here’s the thing. The way I see it (and this is only my perspective and by no means the whole story) there are three possibilities.

1.    God doesn’t exist; therefore, there was no one on the receiving end of my agonized, desperate prayers for my son.
2.    God is weak, he was there but he couldn’t do anything to save my child.
3.    God purposely and knowingly allowed Damon to die, despite my trust, despite my cries.

Quite honestly, I’m not sure which it is and I’m not sure I want to be in league with any of the above. But if he is who I have long believed him to be, if he was there on the floor with me every morning and every evening while we discussed everything from dinner plans to deep wounds. If I wasn’t just conjuring a presence I desperately wanted to be real then it is number 3. Number 3 requires forgiveness. Not from him, from me.

Undoubtedly others have felt this way. It’s irreverent, it’s certainly not “religious” but it’s true.

 If I manage to sort my way through 1 & 2, and apparently I think I will, then that leaves me with the question of can I and will I forgive?

I don’t know…


I don’t know.

2 comments:

  1. Jodie,

    I have no words. I'd love to give you some insight that would somehow ease the pain of the unimaginable, but of course I don't have those words. I just want you to know, that I still read your posts, I still ache with you, I haven't forgotten Damon even though I never met him. Whenever I wear orange, I think of him, and of you. I don't have words, but I do remember.
    ~Jennifer

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oh yes. Oh yes oh yes. I have felt this, I have come up with the same three possibilities (well, not number one for me, but the other two, certainly) For a long time, I settled on option 2, as that sat easier with me....allowed me to continue on in a relationship with God. But I knew in my heart it just wasn't true, God can do anything right? And he chose not to help my son either. And that is hard, really hard. I have just finished a book called the Shack, by WM Paul Young. In some ways it helped me, in others it didn't, but it has got me thinking. May be worth a look x

    ReplyDelete