Receiving Forgiveness

Depression is nourished by a lifetime of ungrieved and unforgiven hurts.
Penelope Sweet

 

Forgive. Forgiveness. To give. To receive.

Which is harder? What is the power of forgiveness?

I want to explore receiving forgiveness, even asking for forgiveness. I know there are others in my life that I have hurt and I should go to them to apologize and ask their forgiveness. Opening myself up to that vulnerability is terrifying. So, for most of my life, I naively wait for those who I hurt to come to me first and forgive me unbidden.

The only one suffering is me. I spent so much emotional capital remembering who all I hurt, who I need to avoid, who I had to steel myself against should they bring up whatever it is that I did and prepare my self for the defense I rarely had to enact.

Let me tell you a story.

My senior year in college, I lived in the basement apartment of a college friend. His family was of more than modest means and he was able to purchase a house right out of college. He let me live there for free. I did not like his girlfriend. But I didn't hate her. Just your basic dislike. I didn't like her personality, her laugh, her being around, her...experience in... intimate matters. I didn't think she was a good match for my friend.

One day my brother stopped by. I thought my friend had left. So as I was giving my brother a tour, I lambasted the girlfriend and didn't hold back in what I thought of her.  I was crueler with my words than I usually am.  I slipped into a kind of locker room language.  I was not nice. I thought I was being clever.

Well, of course, my friend was home. He came out of his bedroom, left with his girlfriend, had a nice dinner, came home and kicked my ass out. It was, for all intents and purposes, the end of a friendship. I had blown it. I apologized sincerely. What I said was a true representation of what I thought of the girlfriend, but how I said it and who I said it to was bad judgment I think he accepted my apology, but I don't know if he forgave me.

They got married. They have a beautiful family. My town is a small city. Plus all characters in this anecdote are all Mennonites. So we run into each other every now and again. And every time we did, I felt deep, abiding shame. Life lessons as an adult were teaching me that the things that had so bothered me about their living arrangements back then are a pittance to the real problems and decisions I needed to make and live through now.

I was ashamed at how I judged her.

One evening at the gym, about 12 years after the incident, she showed up with a daughter to work out. We made small talk (we had gotten to at least that part), said our good byes and I walked out of the weight room. I made it out to my van, sat about a minute, and went back in. I asked her if we could talk. I said, “All those years ago, I did things and said things about you that I regret now. I worked it out with Tom and I do believe he accepted my apology even though it did not restore the friendship. But I never talked to you about it. I am sorry for what I said. I was wrong. I had no place to say the things I did about you. And I'm tired of being overwhelmed with shame every time we meet. Will you forgive me?”

She cried. She pulled me into a long hug. She whispered, “yes, of course I do, and thank you.” And she still hugged. I cried a little too if I'm honest. And I felt wave after wave of relief.

It wasn't until I left the gym that night, though, that I realized I had been carrying about 20 pounds of fear, shame, memories, and worry. The mental weight loss was palpable and this kind of weight loss has stayed of. What happened between Tom and Carol and me is done. Its over. It doesn't require any more energy hold on to or to fear. Now when we meet, we smile and look each other in the eye. There is friendliness there that has been missing for more than a decade. Our lives are very different so I don't really expect a friendship to be restored with Tom or with his wife. But we can meet serendipitously and talk about college and about our kids and all the awkwardness is gone.

This month I am going to ask my body for forgiveness. I have abused it. I have ignored it. I have done things with it that bring shame to me when I remember my youth (remember: I was younger just last week than I am now). To open myself up to my body and ask for forgiveness makes me mental vulnerable. It's easier to keep ignoring my body and keep abusing it rather that to really make the decision to ask for its forgiveness. I'm going to ask my body's help in releasing the anger I have with it as well. I hate my belly. I hate my man boobs. I'm asking for my body to forgive me even as I find ways to show it love, knowing I will most likely fail several times before I can succeed. 

Can you imagine the power you will have if you can truly repent and truly forgive yourself for what you've done to your body?

And a follow up to Carol, she's a runner and participates in many local races. We're friends on FB and we often leave comments of encouragements and celebrate our achievements. We ran the same race last fall (the one where so many asked if I was volunteering for the race) and she made me feel right at home as it was the first time I ran that race.