Forgiveness. I have a love/ hate relationship with this concept. Sure, in theory, it seems easy to understand. But, it's not. I've sat here staring at that word for half an hour; typing a mile a minute, just to erase it all and attempt to start over. Add the word "forget" to it and my mind just gets messy. I cannot comprehend it. Those two ideas just don't mesh well. Talk about opposite ends of the spectrum.
For the past few weeks, I've been speaking to groups of girls through the Juvenile Probation Department. I still don't understand why I was asked, but I finally realized that sometimes the most amazing opportunities are hidden in the most unseen places. So, I agreed to do it without hesitation. I've had girls ranging from 11 years old to high school age. The first scheduled visit rolled around and I panicked. I had received an email from the Director of Education, warning me that she was unsure of how the girls would react to me and wasn't sure what kind of questions they would fire at me. This was not the email I wanted to read before walking into a room of troubled youth. I was terrified. With buckled knees and sweaty palms, I was introduced to a room full of strangers and somehow, the nerves just dissolved. Thankfully, God knows exactly what He is doing. His strength immediately covered my weakness and I told my story in a way I've never told it before. It was difficult to tweak it and edit my words enough so the details weren't so clear, yet attempting to keep the message woven into it. Regardless of where I was speaking, part of me wanted to protect their hearts. I didn't want to scare them by giving them too many details of what I'd gone through. But as it turned out, the question and answer session took care of all that. Apparently, they were listening. They asked questions for almost 20 minutes; questions I had never been asked and had honestly never even thought about. Luckily, I'm known for saying whatever comes to mind, so I was able to think on my feet and answer them with an open heart. One thing I told them was that nothing was off limits...they could ask me anything they felt compelled to. There were a few times I silently cursed myself for opening that door. The moment I thought the firing squad was finished, I heard a sweet, quiet voice in the back utter these words.
"Have you forgiven those who hurt you?"
Try that on for size.
Since that first visit, the question of forgiveness continues to arise and it never gets easier to answer. When I decided to write about my journey almost two years ago, I knew one thing had to be done before I could truly open myself up enough to help others heal. It's that dirty little word that I love to hate. Forgiveness. I had battled with it for years. I kept anger and resentment bottled up for so long that I wasn't sure I would ever be able to forgive him. To forgive them. How was I supposed to forgive a group of people when I didn't even know their names? How was I supposed to forgive them for an experience I couldn't even remember...an experience that haunted me? I have a vague recollection of that night, but the people have no faces. The one person I thought I knew sat back and watched it all happen. How could anyone forgive that?
But, in healing comes truth. It finally hit me. In order to be able to move on with my life and put this behind me completely, forgiveness was necessary. So, through many tears, prayers (and glasses of wine), I finally was able to rid myself of the hatred I had in my heart. The moment I did that, a weight was gone and it hasn't been back since. It has been the most freeing feeling I've ever had. Being able to forgive has allowed me to educate others and help others heal. The blessings that horrible experience has brought has opened my eyes to so much. I have a deeper love for my friends and family. I feel a greater responsibility to be kind to strangers and I've finally realized God has had His hand in this the entire time. Being able to forgive was the easy part. I wish I could sit here and say I've been able to forget. I can truthfully say that I will carry that experience with me for the rest of my life. I still have days where I think about it. I have nights when I can't sleep because a flash of memory haunts my dreams. So, to say I've forgiven and forgotten...not so much.
But, with that said, I think that's the beauty of it all. I can keep my story in my back pocket and tell it to change lives. That's what I was meant to do. Why would I ever want to forget that?
For the past few weeks, I've been speaking to groups of girls through the Juvenile Probation Department. I still don't understand why I was asked, but I finally realized that sometimes the most amazing opportunities are hidden in the most unseen places. So, I agreed to do it without hesitation. I've had girls ranging from 11 years old to high school age. The first scheduled visit rolled around and I panicked. I had received an email from the Director of Education, warning me that she was unsure of how the girls would react to me and wasn't sure what kind of questions they would fire at me. This was not the email I wanted to read before walking into a room of troubled youth. I was terrified. With buckled knees and sweaty palms, I was introduced to a room full of strangers and somehow, the nerves just dissolved. Thankfully, God knows exactly what He is doing. His strength immediately covered my weakness and I told my story in a way I've never told it before. It was difficult to tweak it and edit my words enough so the details weren't so clear, yet attempting to keep the message woven into it. Regardless of where I was speaking, part of me wanted to protect their hearts. I didn't want to scare them by giving them too many details of what I'd gone through. But as it turned out, the question and answer session took care of all that. Apparently, they were listening. They asked questions for almost 20 minutes; questions I had never been asked and had honestly never even thought about. Luckily, I'm known for saying whatever comes to mind, so I was able to think on my feet and answer them with an open heart. One thing I told them was that nothing was off limits...they could ask me anything they felt compelled to. There were a few times I silently cursed myself for opening that door. The moment I thought the firing squad was finished, I heard a sweet, quiet voice in the back utter these words.
"Have you forgiven those who hurt you?"
Try that on for size.
Since that first visit, the question of forgiveness continues to arise and it never gets easier to answer. When I decided to write about my journey almost two years ago, I knew one thing had to be done before I could truly open myself up enough to help others heal. It's that dirty little word that I love to hate. Forgiveness. I had battled with it for years. I kept anger and resentment bottled up for so long that I wasn't sure I would ever be able to forgive him. To forgive them. How was I supposed to forgive a group of people when I didn't even know their names? How was I supposed to forgive them for an experience I couldn't even remember...an experience that haunted me? I have a vague recollection of that night, but the people have no faces. The one person I thought I knew sat back and watched it all happen. How could anyone forgive that?
But, in healing comes truth. It finally hit me. In order to be able to move on with my life and put this behind me completely, forgiveness was necessary. So, through many tears, prayers (and glasses of wine), I finally was able to rid myself of the hatred I had in my heart. The moment I did that, a weight was gone and it hasn't been back since. It has been the most freeing feeling I've ever had. Being able to forgive has allowed me to educate others and help others heal. The blessings that horrible experience has brought has opened my eyes to so much. I have a deeper love for my friends and family. I feel a greater responsibility to be kind to strangers and I've finally realized God has had His hand in this the entire time. Being able to forgive was the easy part. I wish I could sit here and say I've been able to forget. I can truthfully say that I will carry that experience with me for the rest of my life. I still have days where I think about it. I have nights when I can't sleep because a flash of memory haunts my dreams. So, to say I've forgiven and forgotten...not so much.
But, with that said, I think that's the beauty of it all. I can keep my story in my back pocket and tell it to change lives. That's what I was meant to do. Why would I ever want to forget that?