Seventy Times Seven

 Do you ever have those moments when something you think you've made peace with and put into the past suddenly comes rushing back, flooding you with emotions, thoughts, questions, and opinions you were convinced you'd never feel again? Have you ever felt that frustration of having an old sin, a betrayal, a deep hurt, an injustice thrust back into your face, causing you to second guess a decision, re-experience the guilt, re-live the pain?    

When this happens, it's somewhat surprising. Because we think once we've forgiven or moved on, we've put that situation to bed once and for all. We're almost shocked that our memory keeps pulling it up from time to time... and sometimes in the most awkward or unexpected times. I find this happens to me in seasons of life when I'm starting fresh or finally feeling confident and happy - almost like there's a hidden Enemy trying to purposely remind me of the past in order to take me down in my present or harm my future. We know it's impossible for our brains to forget, yet we're often told that forgiveness is forgetting... like we're trying to convince ourselves that total elimination of memory is possible and life can go on like nothing ever happened. 

But the truth is, we cannot forget... and we won't. And who would actually want a life in which even the hard things that taught you something about yourself, your people, or your God was wiped away forever?

I recently had a moment like this where a hurtful conversation from a few years ago suddenly came back to mind. And it wasn't even the entirety of the encounter either... it was just one simple statement within it. One word actually. And I realized that this snippet of something someone said could become an identity if I allowed it to stick with me. If I sat with it for too long and failed to fight it with the truth, that hidden Enemy could use it as fuel to get me to take on a cloak of shame I could carry with me forever. Yet, as I worked to put it away from my thoughts, I could feel the old emotions coming back and the internal dialogue they brought with them: why did she have to say those things to me anyway? is that what and who I really am? did I miss something here? 

Stop, I say. Stop right there. 

The word then comes to me yet again: forgive. 

And suddenly, I realize something about forgiveness that, perhaps, I failed to before: we often think of the command to forgive "seventy times seven" (Matt. 18:22) as separate instances, but what if we must practice this sometimes on a singular incident? What if we must learn to let go of our bitterness, hatred, resentment over one major offense and not just a string of little ones? See, Jesus answered Peter's question of how many times must one forgive in an unexpected way. Peter asked if it was up to "seven times," which was the number for completion, perfection, and healing or exoneration. Jesus multiplied that many times over, basically saying that forgiveness was to be without limit. That there was to be no boundaries on how often one was to extend mercy to an offender, thereby exhibiting the grace of God. 

The idea that this would need to be practiced in a singular situation over and over again somehow just hadn't connected in this way with me before: an unlimited attitude of graciousness over and over and over again. But didn't the Savior do this as He hung upon the cross, asking His Father to "forgive them, for they don't know what they are doing" (Luke 23:34)? None of us, after all, really know what we are doing and we speak, act, and think from a space of brokenness in practically everything we do and say. If there were limits on forgiveness, none of us would be saved. The Psalmist himself said as much when he wrote, "If You, Lord, kept track a record of sins, Lord, could stand" (Psalm 130:3)? There would be no mercy for even the worst of us if we knew there was a way to run out of grace. 

And yet, the cross shows us differently. The cross and subsequent empty grave prove that there is wideness in the mercy of God - that His promise to remove our sins from us "as far as the East is from the West" (Psalm 103:12) still holds true today. There is no limit to how often or how much God can forgive, and there should be no limits to our ability to "cover a multitude of sins" as well (1 Peter 4:8). If we choose not to forgive, we are not like our Father. That is the simple reality. To imitate God is to do, as best we flawed humans can, what He did. And it takes repetition... over and over and over. Daily. Hourly. Monthly. Yearly. 

So, in that moment, when that condemning statement came crashing back through my little brain, I had to pause and forgive... again. I've forgiven many times over. Even though there has never been a formal apology (and perhaps there never will be), I have chosen to let that hurt go... and keep letting it go again and again and again. Because we will remember and record what happens to us. Forgetting is impossible. Everything is stored inside our brain permanently. It remembers. The body remembers. The emotions remember. That's why the act of forgiveness must be performed over and over as a deliberate choice and act of the will. To override the memories and cover them with mercy - something only God can enable a person to do. 

Now, forgiving doesn't necessarily mean we can ever fully trust that person ever again. Even harder is it when the person who needs forgiveness is... yourself. While the process of earning trust back will take longer... maybe even years... the act of absolving yourself of any bitterness and hard feelings is one that must be taken if there is any chance of healing. The longer the lag time and the more we hold our sins over ourselves or hold others sins over them, the greater the chance for resentment to grow and the lesser the opportunity for that gap to be repaired. When you choose to forgive, your feelings may not catch up for sometime. And that's okay. The important thing is to put yourself in a posture of mercy so that you reflect the forgiving heart of God, Who says there is somehow a way to "love your enemies, do good to those that hate you, pray for those who mistreat you," and "turn the other cheek..." (Luke 6:27-29). And if He says this is possible, then I need to believe Him and live like it is. I need to learn what this looks like and keep doing it... seventy times seven. 

I don't know what or who it is that you may be struggling to forgive. Whether it's yourself, a parent, a friend, a boss, a church-member, that kid back in seventh grade, your spouse, your ex, your child, your neighbor... whoever it is and whatever the injustice or pain was, take this as your permission to let it go. Release that bitterness and determine not to pick it up again. And if your brain brings it up, you get to set it down once more. And keep setting it down until one day, you feel something changes and you can now see them with eyes of compassion instead of hate. To pray, as did Jesus, for their forgiveness because, in their sin, they didn't understand what they were saying or doing. 

It's the start of a new year and maybe this is your invitation into a freer life - to set down the weights of unforgiven hurts and start fresh with yourself, your people, and your God. Perhaps this is the beginning of learning the art of limitless mercy - of choosing to quit licking old wounds and let them heal, of looking more into the possibilities ahead than in the rear-view mirror of the past, of forgiving even the things and the people who are unforgettable. Perhaps this is when you decide to walk a new path where you accept the periods and unchangeables about the past while also determining not to let them own your present or your future. Perhaps this is the very moment when you open up your clenched hands and choose not to carry this anymore. Perhaps this is your entrance into a Grace you and those you love have never needed more.