Now, on the other hand of this apology is the person who has been wronged. This person doesn't really have a choice over whether the offender is sorry. I mean, it's really nice to hear that someone else regrets what they did, but what can the other person do with that? But when you've been wronged and the person comes to you and asks for forgiveness, suddenly the situation is put in the hurt person's hands. As a Christian, I'm taught to forgive anyone who comes wishing for my forgiveness, and I think most of the time I'm pretty willing to do so. When a friend comes to me after an argument, I'm willing to think to myself, "Hey, you know, I think that they're really sorry, and they're willing to put themselves out there to ask for forgiveness. I care for them, and our relationship, and I want everything to work out. I'm willing to take this argument and not worry about it again." Because to me, forgiveness isn't pushing aside the issue and forgetting about it, but instead is taking the situation, learning from it, but then choosing not to judge the other person (or persons) for it any more.
But there are always times when I really just don't want to forgive someone. Lord, help me in those moments, because they're when I need to turn to You most. I'm sure you know the situations that make you hesitate to forgive: the friend who just keeps doing the same stupid thing, apologizing and asking for forgiveness and then re-offending; the person who has hurt you so deeply, it sent you emotionally reeling for longer than you can even remember; the person you trusted most with something precious (whether a secret, an object, etc.) and they managed to break that trust in a way you can't even fathom.
I struggle so much with forgiveness. It's (relatively) so easy to say the words "I forgive you," but to actually let go of the pain and work again at the relationship that has been damaged? They say actions speak a thousand words, and this is definitely one of those situations. Just saying the words isn't enough, you actually have to release the other person and no longer hold them to this trespass.
I've recently been reading the book UnChristian. It's a fascinating study that follows research done on my generation (people from ages 16-29) about their reception to the Church and why they have such opinions, from both inside the church and outside. The author does a great job of providing unbiased facts (the book is full of the statistics from the research, as well as graphs, and quotes from the people who answered the surveys), as well as taking what is shown in the research and connecting it to what Christians are both perceived to be doing, as well as what they're actually doing.
Initially I felt a terrible guilt trip from it, considering all the situations I have been in that are similar to ones mentioned in the book. At the same time, however, by the second or third chapter, the author started commenting on perceptions of those in the church, as well as those who have had similar experiences to mine (having a very negative experience directly involved with a Church/its members) and decided to leave the church. I don't feel so alone in my opinions anymore. I had commented to my friend John (the one who let me borrow this book) that I do have faith in God, believe in the Bible, but just don't trust the Christian church, and his response surprised me. All he said was, "You're not the only one."
I guess I'm so used to others looking at me and either A) they're non-Christians who understand what it's like to have a negative experience connected to Christianity/the Church or B) they're church-going Christians who, having bought into the importance of connection (and probably looking good to others), go to church religiously (haha, I couldn't resist) and look at me so oddly when I say that I have a really hard time going to church because I feel as though I can't trust the people around me. I know that's a long-winded sentence, but the point I was trying to make is that I had never heard of others who still are interested in church, but struggle with it at the same time. It is such a relief to know you're not alone.
I'm not done with the book yet, but hopefully the deep thoughts and revelations will continue as I keep reading.
On a less theological note, today was beautiful, and was officially the first 70+ degree day Seattle has had in over six months. I practiced outside for one of my sessions, though I chose to do it in the shade because I had already sat out in the sun earlier, and it was just too hot when one of my arms was getting a steady stream of 90+ degree air. It was really lovely, and I enjoyed myself. Also, on behalf of the sun, I was released from oceanography thirty minutes early to go enjoy the sun. Only wind symphony was tough because everyone's really high strung and stressed out about this Sunday's performance. I have to admit, a lot of the prep work for this concert is very last minute. I didn't put my pencil back in its holder on my horn until rehearsal was over because I needed to make so many reminders for myself. It's amazing how surprising an F# is when you've been playing in three to four flats for the last couple of pieces. *sigh* I hope it all works out. Oh, and to everyone who missed out on Natasha's senior recital (and knows who she is, of course), you totally missed out, because it was *awesome*!
Thank God it's...well...Saturday now :P One day to relax, while still being productive. I'll start by sleeping.
~Allie
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