Monday, January 11, 2010


Today's word is something that I feel is very hard to do. Very hard to ask for. And even once all has been said and done . . . have you really been "forgiven"? defines "Forgiveness" as a noun with two possible meanings. 1] The act of forgiving; the state of being forgiven and 2] disposition or willingness to forgive.

Alexander Pope said that "To err is human, to forgive, divine." I find truth in his words. For me being asked to be forgiven for something I've done has always been a bit of a struggle. I would fight with someone over something and then something would happen and I would realize I was wrong. I would admit that I was wrong, I had no problem doing so, but the part that followed was something I had to swallow my pride to do. And that was difficult.

To apologize and ask to be forgiven... I've always thought that you're never truly forgiven. That even after they say "It's okay" that the incident, the words, the-- whatever may have happened will get thrown back in your face to prove that you messed up-- like the person who "forgave" you never screwed up in their life. I only think so because it's happened. Intentionally, not intentionally, it makes no difference. I think that when you say you forgive someone, you have to let go what they did. Don't bring it up again, don't smack them in the face with it. Especially if it's a serious matter. I too, am guilty of "forgiving" and then bringing up the past. Out of spite, as a joke... I've done it. And sometime it went over well, other times the person in question was highly offended that I had brought it up.

And what about when to forgive? Do you forgive the drunk driver who killed your best friend? Do you forgive the man who ran over your cat? Do you forgive your mother when she's divorcing your father? Do you forgive the boyfriend who cheated on you? What about the friend who betrayed your trust, lied to you, and about you? Forgiveness is something that is hard to do, as well as to ask for. You can say that you "forgive", but do you really? If the wound is severe enough and every time you think of the person, your insides fill with hate; Have you really forgiven them? Or did you just say you did to look like the gracious person who has the ability to do so?

See, there's the problem right there. Someone hurt me very badly. It wasn't too recently, and because of what they did, my life actually ended up in a better place than I was before. It was a strange twist of fate. One of the girls recently tried to apologise to me. Not because she was really and truly sorry for what she'd done to me and put me through, but for the good of her own conscience. She admitted that what she'd done was wrong, and here, I actually did consider forgiving her. I would never let her back into my life again the way I had -- no, I'm too smart for that and she'd already shown me her true character.

But I wanted to know if she could admit to the actual deeds she'd committed, instead of just saying that she was wrong. I asked her what it was that she was sorry for. She turned the tables on me and tried to tell me that I was at fault too, and at least she could admit when she was wrong. Now, I'm a pretty honest person, and admitting I'm wrong isn't a problem with me. It happens to often for me to think that I'm always right. But unless there's something I did that I'm not aware of, I did nothing wrong to this girl. I was a friend and more, and she turned her back on me to gain popularity with a group of people that I had introduced her to. I told her in short, to shove her apology where the sun don't shine. Her apology wasn't sincere. She couldn't admit to lying about me to people who I'd thought were my friends, so I couldn't-- no, I wouldn't forgive her. She doesn't deserve to have a clean conscience, and thus, I will not forgive her. Am I wrong? I might be. But I am not divine. I am human. And forgiveness for that is not something in my power to give.

I do not look like a gracious person. In fact, I look like quite the opposite. I look like someone who can't get over the past. Truth is, I really don't care about what they did to me anymore. For a while, I did. I dwelt on it, and I hated them. Even though my life had taken a drastic turn for the better, I couldn't get over what they'd done to me. I didn't want them to think that they had actually bettered my life instead of hurting me like they had intended. They didn't deserve that sort of justice to their actions. I still think that they don't, but for other reasons. If they could admit to what they'd done, in specifics, I would forgive them. To me, that would mean that they had actually realized what it was that was wrong, instead of just trying to clean their plate.

To truly ask for forgiveness is to admit to your wrong doings. It's like that in confession. You sit and talk to a priest and you tell him everything you've done wrong. Then he tells you that God forgives you. End of story. God is gracious. All he asks is that you tell him what you did. At this point in time, I would be to. If only they would tell me what they did to me. Really realize the horrors of what they'd done.

To truly forgive is to accept that someone hurt you, and has realized what they'd done and asked to be pardoned. To forgive them is more than just a word that consoles the matter. To really forgive is an action that you have to decide you want to do. From the heart. You really do have to be okay with whatever has been done to you. You as the forgiver have to find it within yourself to put behind you what has/had been done. There is a reason they say "Forgive and Forget."


danielmelville said...

maybe the only time forgiveness really works is when we forgive ourselves, but i think to truly forgive yourself only happens when you know you deserve it.

even when someone is forgiven, their is a good chance they will not feel forgiven unless things go back to the way they were prior to their violation. I feel that in many cases, forgiving someone that you have pushed out of your life with out letting them back into it is just the final step of completely moving on. you are not longer not communicating with them because of an action, but because they are finally no longer a factor altogether.