In prayer there is a connection between what God does and what you do. You can’t get forgiveness from God, for instance, without also forgiving others. If you refuse to do your part, you cut yourself off from God’s part. Matthew 6:14-15 MSG
It’s been over thirty years, but the lesson I learned will stay with me forever.
When my husband and I recommitted our lives to the Lord, we joined a local Bible study. One of the ladies in this study became my mentor (we’ll call her Margie) and soon became a good friend as well. We studied the Word together. We prayed together. She encouraged me in my spiritual journey and helped me develop a closer walk with the Lord.
For a while, our relationship was wonderful. Then something drastically changed. My friend turned against me for reasons I still don’t understand. She seemed to be threatened by my growth and hunger for God and His Word. She spread terrible rumors and treated me in an unkind and disrespectful manner. Whenever I tried to talk to her about it, she brushed me off. Suddenly, I was no longer her peer but someone far beneath her. My friend became my adversary and appeared to have a lot of pleasure at my expense. I was stunned.
The situation gnawed at me like a cancer. It was all I could think about. As a result, I suffered from severe headaches, and no amount of medication touched them. One day, my husband pointed out to me that my headaches had been occurring for six weeks. They began as soon as I found out about my friend’s betrayal.
I had prayed about the situation for weeks, but my prayers became more intense. I petitioned God—even begged Him—to take the headaches away. His answer shot through my heart like an arrow.
Call Margie and ask her to forgive you.
God might as well have hit me with a two-by-four.
“Forgive me? For what?” I sputtered.
Just ask her to forgive you.
As far as God was concerned, that was the end of the matter. I cried and whined and wrestled with the idea for days. It was absurd. I had done nothing wrong. But there was no rest or peace. The headaches only grew worse … along with my attitude.
Finally, in an act of sheer obedience—or maybe desperation—I called Margie. My apology went something like this: “I don’t know what’s happened between us, but I’m truly sorry if I’ve upset or offended you. Please forgive me.”
She laughed as if she’d just heard the funniest joke ever. That was the end of the conversation and the last time we ever spoke.
Again, I was stunned. Did I just make a fool of myself? Now what?
What happened next was immediate, and I knew it was by God’s hand. Almost before I hung up the phone, my headache was gone. Peace filled my heart, along with compassion for Margie. I was able to sincerely pray for her and forgive her. I forgave myself. The chains that kept me bound for weeks were gone, even though my apology was not received and Margie made no effort to reconcile.
During those unforgettable six weeks—even though I thought I had forgiven Margie—her hateful, demeaning words haunted me day and night. My unforgiveness built a stronghold in my heart and mind. While my failure to forgive did not affect her in the least, it tormented me. But God, in His merciful and loving way, set me free. All it took was a simple act of obedience.
Why is it so hard to forgive others? Most of the time it’s because we believe our offer of forgiveness will justify the offense—and the offender. In other words, if I forgive someone who hurt me, it will make what they said or did okay. In truth, when we forgive another person, that forgiveness is for us, not them. It doesn’t mean we’re letting them off the hook. It means we’re letting ourselves off the hook.
Holding on to resentment and refusing to forgive eventually leads to bitterness. When a root of bitterness takes hold in our heart, it not only affects us but everyone around us. That’s what happened to me. Hebrews 12:15-16 (NLT) puts it this way:
Look after each other so that none of you fails to receive the grace of God. Watch out that no poisonous root of bitterness grows up to trouble you, corrupting many.
Did you catch the word poisonous? Bitterness is a poison that will kill us spiritually when we refuse to deal with it. It can destroy relationships and even drive a wedge between us and God. When we need Him to pardon our sins, we must be willing to pardon the sins of others.
Sometimes the hardest lessons create the greatest growth. These lessons are etched in our soul and keep us on our spiritual toes as we move forward and experience opportunities to take offense. I’ve learned over the years that it’s not worth the price we have to pay. I’ve also learned that God’s way is always best.
He says, “forgive … and you will be forgiven.” It might be the hardest thing you’ll ever do, but it’s worth the sacrifice. And all it takes is a simple act of obedience.
Featured Image by Alexis Brown
