Sometimes when people come to see me, they’re looking to get past a bad thing someone did to them a long time ago.  Or, they may still be struggling with a fresh hurt that they just want to put to bed.

“Can you teach me how to let it go?” they ask.

That depends.  Has the hurt been tended to yet?  And, have you forgiven yourself?

Band aids

Forgiveness is like a band aid.  It’s something that comes to assist the healing process, after most of the other feelings have ebbed away.  It’s a signal that healing is in process.

So many people I know want to force the issue.  They see forgiveness as the end—a convenient bookmark that will safeguard any heart against future pain or grief.

They want to forgive now or yesterday, if possible.

Perhaps they’ve received the message from others that their grief is too big, or their anger too weighty, their sadness too protracted.  They’re told to let go, to leave it alone, to set it aside.  It is painful for them.

In trying to bring forgiveness on too early, they are hurt again.  They tell themselves that their feelings are wrong—and by association—that they are wrong.  Their experience is wrong.  It is too big, too weighty, too protracted.

My heart goes out to them.  It is so natural to want to feel good again, to move past and put behind.  But hastiness here simply makes the process more painful and the healing incomplete.

Love’s limitations

We are most often ushered towards forgiveness from well-meaning loved ones.  They hate to see us in pain.  They want to tend to a wound they cannot see, and sometimes they are clumsy about it.

“You need to forgive band aids,” they say.  And so they busily set about telling you about how things are going to be okay.  They soothe and reassure.  They apply pressure and gauze to these mental pains.

But sometimes they press too hard.  Sometimes they put a bandage over a fresh hurt before it’s been properly tended to.  Or they didn’t really even look at it, because they were afraid, or disgusted, or hurt just thinking about it.

This is part of why therapy is so valuable.  It means that another person will study your hurts with care and compassion—without flinching away from your pain.  They keep you company as the bone sets.  They ask about your pain.  They don’t urge you to hide something to spare them the encounter.

But sometimes we get in our own way.  Sometimes we rush towards forgiveness, not yet having forgiven ourselves.

Forgiving you

More often than not, we must first forgive ourselves before we forgive others.

We may realize that we have donned responsibilities and accountabilities that were not ours, thinking a thing our fault when it wasn’t.

Or in some cases, we may find that we shared some responsibility in creating our hardship.  We may suffer under a heavy burden of guilt or shame, thinking ourselves unworthy of forgiveness.  We think ourselves undeserving of a clear conscience.

These can be very hard conversations.  It helps to have these with someone you trust.

It comes and goes

One other myth that people often carry:  forgiveness is an enlightened and permanent state of being.

No.  Just like compassion, happiness, sadness, calm—these are states we fall into and out of all the time.

So some days, you may be ready to forgive him.  Other days, you may find it impossible to imagine.

On days when forgiveness feels distant:  do not despair.  It’s just pain rising to the surface, like bubbles in a spring.  It will clear quickly, if you give it room and do not judge it.

Have you heard the saying about how folks can feel shifts in the weather through old aches and pains?

Long after a wound has healed, it may still carry an awareness for you—perhaps a reminder in your knee to go slowly, or in your hand to treat the hot kettle with care.

It is the same with healing hearts.  So, don’t fear the ache of an old wound.  There will be anger and sadness and fear at times when life jostles you.  That is natural.

Forgiveness will come when it is ready.  In the meantime, it is your job to find someone who will hold your hand through this.  After all, there’s no need to go it alone.