Still Walking ...

After glancing over my blog posts from the past several weeks, I noticed that I haven't written about anything "journey-themed" in quite some time. On a surface level, "life" took over -- gardening has been a priority, my kids have been a riot, and so on. Just plain old, good, easy, life stuff.

But silently flowing underneath the surface of my ordinary, day to day happenings is the ever-present stream of what got me here in the first place, what started my blogging over a year ago. In my very first post, I wrote:

"... the journey that I have been on is just as equally unbelievable in some respects. Did I ever dream I would be at this point in my life? No way. NO WAY. NO WAY! But here I am, trying to make sense of it all, trying to look back and see the meanderings (or purposeful paths?) which got me to this point."

Sometimes that subconscious stream rages, forces its way into the present and onto my radar in such a way that I can't ignore it. Thoughts, triggers, emotions -- you name -- bubble to the surface which compel me to address it, talk about it, write about it. But there are other times where that stream is fairly silent, unobtrusive, gurgling along quietly, murmuring to itself, allowing me a bit of ... peace? ... when I can focus on the wonderfully mundane things of life. Whether I'm wrestling with God and His will for my life, spewing out questions and doubts mingled with pain and tears, or whether I'm thinking about paint colors or flowers for the garden or homework ... that journey-stream continues to flow in one way or another.

So over these past weeks of relative quiet, I bring my thoughts back to my journey. What's been going on? To what point have I reached? Has healing occurred? For journeys never really do end, do they ...

There has been one recurring theme through my year-long posting, circling around the idea and act of forgiveness. Is it possible to forgive someone who refuses to acknowledge any wrong-doing? Can one forgive when there has been no repentance? Can forgiveness take place when you know there will be no justice, no reconciliation, no remorse, no words spoken? As a human being, it seems impossible to address this and yet ... as Christians, we must. I must.

For a long time, I understood that cerebrally -- "in my head" I knew that the only way to move forward was to let go of past events. And to do that, I had to forgive those who hurt us. And that task was proving to be the most difficult thing I've had to face. Could I really forgive someone who so knowingly, purposefully, and maliciously hurt my husband, and our family? I had to, no matter how difficult it would prove to be. I knew it in my head, but I felt miles away from embracing it in my heart.

I've been sitting on this for quite some time now, not sure how to write about it, and knowing that while there is a time to write, there is also a time to ponder (and hum a little tune by The Byrds). My journey's path took a pretty major turn at Easter -- during the worship service, specifically. While I'll keep the details, Mary-like, in my own heart I'll say that I was finally able (though not at all on my own) to meld my head and my heart together. What I had known in my head was finally embedded in my heart: forgiveness. Why? How did this come about? Well, all I did was look at the cross at the front of our worship space ... and the Holy Spirit did the rest. What happened on the cross, and what followed at Easter, was the epitome of forgiveness, of grace that I don't deserve. How many times do I wrong God? How many times do I make the wrong choices? How many times do I knowingly hurt Him? How many times do I just let things go and show no remorse for my actions? And yet ... forgiveness was never withheld from me. It was freely, and gladly, given. So what do I do with that? Do I say "Thank you, Lord, for forgiving me!" and then turn around and withhold forgiveness from those individuals who hurt me? How many times did Jesus talk about this very thing in the Gospels -- forgiving your enemy, loving your enemy, forgiving seventy times seven (depending upon your translation -- some have it easier than others!), "Father, forgive them," the parable of the man who was forgiven a great debt yet turned around and imprisoned someone else who owned him. There's a reason this "theme" is repeated countless times -- sometimes it feels an impossible calling.

Through the absolute grace of God, on that Easter morning, I was able to find that place of forgiveness, that place where my heart finally caught up to my head. I forgave my enemies. Yet something interesting happened -- or rather, didn't happen. What exactly was I expecting? Did I suddenly expect to feel love toward that person, or persons? Did I think that I would be able to pick up the phone and say, "Hey, buddy! How ya doing?" No. I still felt anger. I still felt pain. I still felt injustice. But the thing is, that's OK. That's how it is. That's appropriate. Forgiveness doesn't necessarily mean that a relationship will be healed, or that a situation will be justified. It means that, despite the presence of pain and loss and other feelings du jour, their hold on me is gone. God's got 'em now.

Another thing, too, that I've learned about the process of forgiveness is that even when you "get there," it takes work. It takes work to let it go and leave it. It takes work to remember what I learned at Easter. It takes work to repeat "I forgive him" when a trigger pop up out of nowhere, or a memory surfaces, or a doubt for my future seeps in. You don't just say, or realize, "I forgive you" and then all is hunky-dory and rainbows explode in the sky. It takes work. But it's a step ... a big step.

No, I haven't written much about my journey lately -- and no wonder. It's tiresome. And "Life" has a way of settling in, the day to day living subtly blankets any underlying streams of thought. But it's there, that path of mine, and I'm still walking. But somehow the steps are getting a bit lighter, the rough places are a bit more plain, the steep jagged hills a bit more level. Do I know where I'm going? Is my path suddenly GPS'd and planned out? Nope. Sometimes I'm more confused than ever. Doubts set in. I wonder, "Is this it? After years of ministry, is this it? Is this all that our lives are now?" Who knows. But that's another chapter, another leg of my journey. Another day's pondering.

And now it's time to get back to "life." Kids and lunch and school. But I'm still walking ...