Unforgiveness is not an option. At least, it shouldn’t be.

Here’s why.

During this past week, the nation and world were witness to an amazing legal trial in Dallas. Here’s what www.Relevantmagazine.com shared (and the photo credit is theirs, too):

This week, former police officer Amber Guyger was sentenced to 10 years in prison for the murder of her neighbor Botham Jean. 

Jean was at home by himself when Guyger entered his apartment by mistake, and shot and killed him. He was just 26 years old. Yesterday, after the sentencing, Botham’s younger brother Brandt addressed the court, and delivered a powerful message to Guyger. 

Brandt then nervously asked the judge if he could give Guyger a hug.

The judge also gave Guyger a Bible – and my understanding is that it was the judge’s personal Bible. The folks from Freedom From Religion have just about gone into anaphylactic shock over that.

For Brandt, unforgiveness was not an option.

How about you?

And, my followup question:

Why wouldn’t you forgive? Unforgiveness is not an option.

I’m sure you have plenty of answers to that. It certainly is easy to harbor unforgiveness, even bitterness. Aren’t grudges fun anyway?

Isn’t it a pleasure to despise someone else?

Of course it is. We all enjoy locking eyes with someone who has wronged us or someone we care about and feel that delicious blossoming of malice. It’s fun to wish ill-will on someone else.

Or not.

C’mon, now. What purpose does unforgiveness serve? Who exactly do we want to hurt?

If someone has wronged you or otherwise hurt you, and you haven’t forgiven them, to what end does your unforgiveness lead you?

It won’t take you to a pleasant place. I guarantee it.

• For one, unforgiveness won’t take you back in time. It won’t undo what has been done. It’s called the “past” for a reason.
• Second, it won’t change the person that you won’t forgive. They are who they are. Besides, you can’t change anyone. That’s out of your hands.
• Third, it will change you. It simply makes you feel bad, at the very least. And if you don’t feel bad by being consumed with ill-will, well, I’m guessing you have other issues, too. Maybe your soul has become bitter and shriveled.

Why wouldn’t you forgive? It may be that you’re in a place of such pain that you can’t be anything but negative.

That’s bogus. Because you can always, always, always choose to forgive. Unforgiveness is not an option because you have a will that makes it possible.

It may be that we don’t forgive because we prefer personal misery instead.

Forgiveness is liberating. It brings life and freedom. It gives us authority over ourselves, and, in a sense, gives us authority over the person we didn’t want to forgive. And it shows that we may be a bigger person than they are. That’s not a license to show some sort of “I’m better than they are” attitude. It simply means that we aren’t going to let someone else’s actions devalue us. Forgiveness gives us value.

Then, for the believer, there’s this: Take a look at the Cross.

Did Jesus deserve that? Did He have any reason to die for us, ungrateful little people that we are? Scripture is clear that it was our sin that put Him up there, writhing in agony. Not only did He forgive those that physically put Him up there in real time, He forgave us. He made provision for anyone, anytime, anywhere to receive this supernatural forgiveness.

You’ve heard this thousands of times, but hear it again: We can forgive because He first forgave us. We are supernaturally empowered to forgive others because of Him. For Christ-followers, unforgiveness is not an option.

Paraphrasing R.C. Sproul:

Unforgiveness is having the desire in our hearts to do the will of the enemy of God.

Let this be fresh to you, because the implications are staggering.

You can face life with your head held high and your spirit soaring. And it’s because you can do what Jesus did.

P.S. I’d be honored if you’d check out the free course offered in the Transformational Encouragement Academy and leave some feedback. I want this to be the best resource ever. Check it out here.

 

 

Today’s blog post will be short and sweet, like the old woman’s dance.

If you’re suffering now, you don’t have to pretend it’s all good.

I’m not sure what constitutes suffering. It’s an emotionally-charged word, but I think it can be too easily applied.

Your DVR not working is not suffering. Running out of mayonnaise and having to go to the store isn’t suffering.

Starving to death is suffering. Stage 4 cancer is suffering.

And a totally trashed relationship with no reconciliation on the horizon might be suffering.

The uneasy truth is that we all suffer. Every one of us. All of us. You aren’t exempt.

There is a line of thought in some Christian circles that suffering is needless. That if you pray right, live right, and “obey the rules,” then you’re exempt. Just have a positive mental attitude. God wants you to be spared from hurt, right?

And when suffering does occur, then we’re supposed to pretend like it’s all good.

Uh, nope. I don’t think the call is to suffer and then automatically say, “Well, praise God!”

I’m looking at Jesus here. There’s the savior in the Garden of Gethsemane, facing in mere hours ahead the worst conceivable suffering imaginable. Torture. Crucifixion. Abandonment by friends. Abandonment by God.

I didn’t see Him singing in the garden. I don’t see Him acting all hyperspiritual. I see Him hurting out loud. I see Him sweating blood. I see Him asking His Father for a way out.

Is there a lesson here?

In full disclosure, I don’t think I’ve actually ever really suffered. Sure, I’ve had some tough times, and if you’re familiar with my testimony from the last couple of years, there have been plenty of challenges. But outright suffering? Not really, at least not to the extent that Christ experienced. And there are plenty of other scriptural accounts of godly folks facing excruciating trials. Some persevered. Some didn’t end well.

You have to write your own autobiography for this one. You have to ruthlessly evaluate yourself and be honest – have you really suffered? To what extent? And how did you respond?

I can’t answer those questions for you. You’ll need to hammer those out.

Jesus unquestionably suffered. But at the end, He went to the cross with joy.

On the surface, there sure isn’t anything joyful about that.

However, dig a little deeper. What Christ experienced, and His response to it, was not a shallow consolation that knew no pain. Rather, His was a joy deepened by sorrow while recognizing the hurt of humanity.

Here’s my takeaways. I’d love for you to develop your own. It will salve your soul:

• You are going to suffer.
• A reasonable question would be, “To what end?” In other words, how can you learn and grow through it?
• How you respond to suffering literally impacts the quality of your life.
• You can choose your response.
• Choose wisely.
• There is a purpose in suffering. God could engineer circumstances so that we never experienced any hurt. But He doesn’t.
• Since He’s God, He knows what He’s doing.
• Furthermore, He loves you insanely, and it’s in the context of that love that He allows that pain.
• Big closing question: Jesus experienced joy. Maybe He even chose joy. So to what purposeful, positive end can you allow your suffering to make a difference not only in your own life, but in the lives of others? Gnaw on that one.

This is a tough one, but it’s worth taking some time to ponder.

As I write this, I’m in the waiting room at the surgical area of Baptist for Women, at Baptist Hospital in Jackson, Mississippi. My sweet wife Teresa is back in the bowels of the hospital somewhere having her shoulder replaced – a nice metal ball plugged into a nice plastic socket. The doc says she’ll be better than new … she’s been quietly suffering for weeks now. It was time to get this done. By the time you read this, it may be over and done. Pray anyway – for a quick, uneventful recovery and that I can be the very best caregiver ever!