Recently I started seeing a Christian counselor to help me navigate through the painful maze of lies, deception, and hurt inflicted by someone who should never want to hurt me--my mother, and with them, my sisters. I needed to talk not just to any counselor, but one who would be able to help me discern God's path for me, and what He would have me do. At the same time, my daughter sent me an article on forgiveness, something she is working through with one of her friends--a scriptural view of forgiveness. The coincidence of these two events happening at the same time is mind blowing, and I see God's wonderful, loving Hand in it. This week, my counselor gave me "homework," to "identify the forgivable offense." Makes sense...can't forgive something unless I know what I am forgiving. I read through that aforementioned article, twice...and began to pray, and to think, and finally, to write.
What is forgiveness, anyway? The root of the word, "forgive", is the Latin word "pardoner," meaning to give completely, without reservation. It is acknowledging a debt, and canceling that debt, even if the other person never asks for that forgiveness. Ah, therein lies the rub. Because it is not just the most recent actions of the past couple of years I must forgive (although being sued by one's mother and maligned by siblings is pretty hard to swallow). How do I identify a "forgivable offense" that has been perpetrated my entire life? My mother gave birth to me, took care of my physical needs, but neglected my emotional and spiritual needs. She abandoned me, even though she was present. She looked to me to blame everything on; I have been her scapegoat. I have no pleasant memories of growing up, at least none involving her. Every time I look back into the kaleidoscope of my past, all I feel is a pervasive sense of inadequacy, of not being good enough to be loved, even by my own mother. So I have gone through life trying to prove I deserve her love, anyone's love. And every attempt at earning HER love blew up in my face. I have struggled with the reality of being the daughter of a woman who is incapable of loving anyone, even her own children. And I was silly enough to think I could change her, but in reality, nothing I do or say or feel or think can change that, or change her heart. The forgivable offense? Giving life to me, and denying love. Because of this, I have struggled for 60 plus years to earn a mother's love and to have a normal mother.
So, Mom, I forgive you, for not loving me. For decades I tried to earn what you cannot, will not, give. And strangely enough, paradoxically, I thank you for giving me life and being who you are so God could reveal to me who, what, and where He is. Finally, I understand I am no more worthy of His love than I am of yours. Nothing I do will earn His love. He already loves me, has always loved me, unconditionally, because of who HE is, not because of who I am or what I do or become. I forgive you Mom. And I will continue forgiving you, completely, without reservation, for the rest of my life.
But wait...there's another offense to deal with: the offenses of my sisters. But what IS their offense? Are they accountable? They thought they were right. Perhaps they were trying to prove they do care about their mother, that they knew they were wrong for leaving it all to me. I know they, too, are products of an extremely unhealthy home environment. They were fed passive aggressiveness, clothed in guilt, and schooled in taking sides. We were in a constant state of flux as to which one of us was the "black sheep," for on our mom's "wheel of misfortune" she would spin that wheel, and wherever that needle landed, well, that daughter was "it." Persona non grata, the black sheep, the bad seed. And the games would begin. She would justify and vindicate herself by tearing one of us down, and dragging the other sheep into it. I took the brunt of it, as the oldest, but also, because I fought back. That fighting back allowed her to put a wedge between me and my sisters; she made them distrust me, and only trust her. She made them need her, because she gave them identity, stilted and deformed as it was.But, above all, she demonstrated why they NEVER wanted to be winner of the Wheel of Misfortune. So, their sin? Not breaking free, not seeing me as a victim of the same, sick manipulations they were experiencing. I had broken free and was now the enemy. Ratcheting up year after year, their mistrust finally culminated in conspiring with our mom to cut me completely out of their lives. They believed the constant whispered lies she told them, distorting everything I had done into something ugly and self-serving.
They are not blameless, though, as they are, after all, adults, and could cut loose from her control. If only they would surrender to you, God. I pray daily for them to see You, to grow with You--not because of what they have done to me, but because of what they are missing, the eternal cost. But, I forgive them, for all their hate and lies, for betraying me, for trying to destroy me. It will be a lifelong process, because just when I think I have forgiven them, up comes a thought, a memory, triggered by a conversation with family or a song or a place. It unearths the old hurt, and the hate, and I must forgive all over again. I struggle with what I would say or do or feel if I see them. I have, for my own safety and sanity, set boundaries around my life, my heart, trying to insulate myself from being hurt again. Maybe God will bring about reconciliation, I don't know. I do know I must forgive.
Thank you, Jesus, for giving me the Comforter to guide and console me. Thank you, God, for leading me down this path, a path of rough rocks, vipers, and thorns, so I could realize truly how beautiful is the grace you give me. For I am no more worthy of Your love than I am of those who hurt me. Yet, you have set me apart to be Yours. Thank you. Help me in this lifelong journey to be forgiving, as You have forgiven me.
Make my feet like the hinds feet on the high places.
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