R & R

Something is seriously wrong with my "internal clock" this week.  No, not my biological clock... my internal clock (thank you very much).  Ever since I stayed up til 2am making pies and deviled eggs, followed by a 6am turkey-gutting-"Ew-ew-ew-ewwww" fest, I can't seem to get my sleeps back on track.  Why am I telling you all of this?  Well, for one, so you don't think I'm crazy for writing a 3:16...make that 3:17am, blog.  Reason #2?  I guess the less sleep I get, the more I recognize the value of a little "R & R."

We've been talking about this idea of R & R in our addictions group recently, but not the kind you're thinking (or I'm wishing I could get right now).  I'm talking about the R & R of Forgiveness.  Sometime last year, one of my students was talking with me about the challenge of forgiveness in her life.  She told me that she was "trying" to forgive, but she felt like a failure.  Brilliantly, I asked her why (yes, I have pretty mad counseling skills...it takes a genius:)  She answered by telling me how people keep encouraging her to, "forgive and forget."  She said "I'm working on the forgiveness part, I really am, but I just can't seem to make myself forget."

Immediately I added "Forgive & Forget" to my list of ridiculous, insensitive cliches.

This student and I began to talk about the idea of "forgive and forget."  We talked about how it's ridiculous.  It's inhumane.  It's illogical.  And, unless you have amensia, virutally impossible.  I understand the principle behind the thought, "forgive and forget"; at least I think I do.  I understand that we're talking about not reliving the past, harboring bitterness or ill will toward others, or, as we also love to say, "Let go and let God."  (Sounds lovely...still feels crappy).

Together, we wondered, does not forgetting mean I haven't forgiven?  Days beyond our conversation, I chatted over this issue with God.  I thought about how we like to say that God "forgets" our sins, but I wondered how that could be possible when God knows everything.  Can God get amnesia?  I began to think that maybe God doesn't forget our sins - maybe He remembers them - entirely, thoroughly, completely - yet chooses to forgive.  Maybe this is the great miracle of all miracles, the gift of all gifts - that He still remembers, but still forgives.  Through our talks, what grew in my heart was this:

There can be no forgiveness without remembrance. 

Without remembrance, there would be no reason to forgive. 

I release you from the guilt of not forgetting. 

If you cannot forgive and forget, then remember and release.

R & R... Remember and Release.

Together, with my addictions group, we're practicing this new habit of remembering and releasing.  For a week we all walked around with a small bottle of bubbles in our pockets.  Any time we were challenged with a memory we must forgive, we found a private place and pulled out our bubbles.  We pulled the wand from the container and looked at it.  We looked at it and remembered the offense, and then instead of cramming it back into the bottle, to harbor and carry it with us everywhere we go, we chose to release it.  We chose to breathe out bitterness, regret, anger and grief.  We chose to let it go.  We chose to forgive.  We chose to release.

I think sometimes we are waiting for apologies or retribution before we choose to forgive.  This is far from Christ.  Jesus received no apology before choosing to cry, "Father, forgive them..."  I find it quite lovely actually, that He forgave, He drank the sour wine offered to Him (finishing the 'cup' perhaps?), said "It is finished," and breathed His last.  Breathe... release.    

Nope, it's not that easy.  It's not always as easy as "forgive and forget" or "let go, let God," or even that one profound moment when you wrote "that name" on a piece of paper, then tore it up or burned it as a sign of forgiveness.  Profound moment, yes.  Do you magically forget the offense after that?  No. 

 But it is possible to still remember, yet choose to release.  Here is the great sacrifice, the sweet surrender, the "worshipper the Father is seeking" - the one who, broken and bullied, whispers in prayer with each aching memory, "Father, I surrender this to You..."  Maybe forgiveness will not happen in one shiny moment, but in recurring, bleeding moments of release - breathing prayers day in, day out, as images flood back to memory - choosing to forgive, choosing to release. 

If you're weighed down, groggy in the fog of unforgiveness, I would like to suggest that you release yourself from the guilt of "forgive and forget."  Own your circumstance, affirm your pain, remember it well and choose to release.

I'm sure we could all use some good R & R.


*(Please forgive all of my parentheses.  This is what happens when I don't get much sleep.  I have 5 internal dialogues going at once).