The Earth, through God's immaculate creativity, is designed to recycle and sustain itself. All we have to do is look around to see evidence of this process.
Take the forest, for example. When the leaves drop—or deadfall trees and plants litter the forest floor—micro-organisms act as nature's recyclers and, in turn, put nutrients back into the soil to help produce new growth.
So up to a point, the Earth is very forgiving, right? But humanity needs to do a better job of protecting it, and one way to do this is by recycling our junk.
For us here in Canada, one of the standard recycling options is a blue box program. Yet what became apparent for Derick and me during our east coast trip this past summer was that the rules for acceptable recycle materials (depending on the municipality) differed. We never did quite get it all sorted out and even got ribbed by relatives along the way. In each case, however, the common recycle goal was always geared towards helping the environment.
Most of us would agree that looking after the environment is an essential part of sustaining Canada's beauty for generations to come. After all, it's our legacy to our children and grandchildren, and dealing with garbage in a throwaway society is becoming a real challenge; therefore, anything that can be recycled is a common-sense approach.
But what about our internal environment? How do we sort out what's trash and what's recyclable? How do we sustain our inner beauty?
Consider the phycological effects of being bullied or abused in some other way, especially in childhood. These hurts don't just disappear. They lay dormant in the recesses of our psyche, triggering harmful effects such as misunderstood anger and resentment and bitterness, in part, due to the inability to forgive and heal—not a pleasant place to find oneself in.
How do I know?
Because there were deep hurts that I'd thrown in the trash heap, hurts that I'd closed the lid on, but I forgot to take the bin to the curb (so to speak). And in the absence of forgiveness and healing, these hurts continued to fester, (slowly) releasing toxic waste into my character, resulting in the lid to burst off later in life.
Bottom line: Forgiving others and starting the healing process wasn't possible for me until I was first able to forgive myself, to feed myself compassion and love for the hurts that I'd caused others with my words and actions. It's no wonder I get emotional when praying, "Forgive us our sins, as we have forgiven those who sin against us."
Quoting also—when Peter asked Jesus, "Lord, how many times am I to forgive my brother who sins against me? "Is seven enough?" Jesus reiterated, "I do not say to you up to seven times, but seventy times seven." Essentially, Jesus is saying we forgive as many times as necessary.
What these two biblical references (as well as many others) signify is that forgiveness is one of the most critical aspects of the Christian faith, an on-going process that we must do over and over again. Why? Because God wants to heal our wounds, not just for ourselves but also for the people who have hurt us.
Let's face it, though; forgiveness isn't as clear-cut as it sounds. On the contrary, it's hard work. I know when someone hurts my family or me, the last thing I want to do is forgive that person(s). It takes prayer to change my heart. Years ago, my tactic would've been to try and get even, to demand an apology, to hold that person captive in my heart. But Christ has fostered a new self-awareness in me; a calmness that has helped me grasps the notion that the power of forgiveness is the only true path to spiritual peace.
Why then do the misconceptions surrounding forgiveness tend to give many a wide berth to it? Partly, perhaps, because (and I've been here too) of not understanding what forgiveness isn't: forgiveness isn't forgetting what happened or condoning the offense or letting the other person off the hook—forgiveness isn't necessarily reconciliation.
Instead, forgiveness, in a healing sense, is a gift God prompts us to give to ourselves, a conscious choice to "let go" and reclaim our life, usually through the evolution process of dissecting and then releasing our wounds. Wounds that, for some, are so egregious that it can take years of deep soul-searching, of connecting with the most profound and rawest parts of who they are, of continuing to forgive over and over again until they can experience the fullness of healing.
In truth, no one can force you to forgive. Forgiveness is a process where only you know when you are ready to move into a "more in-depth" understanding and acceptance of your pain. Because the thing is: when your wounds are still raw and bleeding, it's a natural response to throw your fists in the air and want to fight with a vengeance. And you have the right to feel what you feel, but at some point, you will need to let it go, in other words, you will need to forgive. If not, you will remain tethered to your pain, causing havoc on your emotional, physical, and spiritual well-being.
In hindsight, I can tell you that holding on to past hurts had far more consequences for me than opening up my heart to forgiveness—the anger, resentment, and bitterness not only kept me chained to my past, but it blocked my emotional healing as well. Forgiveness, on the other hand, moved me into a brighter future, a future made possible through Christ's recyclable approach to forgiveness.
