This week God has been penetrating my heart in a deeper way than ever before with the message of true forgiveness.  A hurtful situation in my life has brought this issue to the surface in the last few days.   I’ve become all the more aware that as a woman, it’s all too easy to be quick-tempered; to be ruled by my feelings and emotions rather than the Spirit of God.  Maybe you can relate.  When someone hurts us, our fleshly side wants to cling to that hurt, to meditate upon it, and to hold that person in contention for the rest of his or her life.  When someone offends us, our feminine tendency is to pout, sulk, act moody and sullen to send the message that they’ve really messed up – or to say critical and cutting things about them to others.  For some reason, our flesh convinces us that being bitter toward those who hurt us is our God-given right.  But the opposite is true.  Christ spoke in no uncertain terms about the necessity of forgiving – see Matthew 18:21-35.  As Christ says, we have been forgiven so much by our Lord, when we were so utterly undeserving of His pardon.  What right do we have to then turn and refuse to forgive those who hurt us?

Corrie ten Boom tells a moving story about finding power to forgive someone in a situation when it felt impossible to do so.  After enduring unspeakable miseries, including the death of her sister Betsy, in a German concentration camp, Corrie relied on the grace of God to forgive her enemies and become a living testimony of the power of God.  She began to travel the world and speak about His amazing grace.  One night, after sharing her testimony at a church in Germany, a man approached her.  “What you said tonight greatly impacted me,” he said sincerely.  “I have done many things in my life that I deeply regret.  What a miracle to know that Christ is willing to forgive even me.”

As he was speaking, Corrie froze in shock.  She recognized him.  He had been a guard at the concentration camp where her sister Betsy had lost her life – one of the very cruelest guards.  And now he was extending his hand in friendship to her.  All of the old emotions – the anger, resentment, and indignation that she’d experienced in the camp came flooding back.  She found herself unable to take the man’s hand or even reply.  She felt God challenging her to forgive him, just as she had been forgiven and washed clean by Jesus’ blood for her own sins:

I tried to smile, I struggled to raise my hand. I could not. I felt nothing, not the slightest spark of warmth or charity. And so again I breathed a silent prayer. Jesus, I prayed, I cannot forgive him. Give me Your forgiveness.

“You take the step of obedience,” came God’s gentle reply, “and I will do the rest.”

So Corrie obeyed.  She reached out and shook the man’s hand.  As she did so, the supernatural love of Christ flooded her heart.  She saw him as Christ did.  And her bitterness was replaced by love and compassion.  She said,

As I took his hand the most incredible thing happened. From my shoulder along my arm and through my hand a current seemed to pass from me to him, while into my heart sprang a love for this stranger that almost overwhelmed me. And so I discovered that it is not on our forgiveness any more than on our goodness that the world's healing hinges, but on His. When He tells us to love our enemies, He gives, along with the command, the love itself.

I’ve been so moved by this story.  It’s reminded me once again that forgiveness is not primarily a matter of feeling, but a matter of choice; a decision to obey.  When we simply say, “Lord, I choose to let this go; to give this offense to You instead of carrying it,” God supplies the willingness, the love and the compassion needed to practically live it out. 

Our hurt may be strong.  But praise God that His love is far stronger! *