Forgiving: A Lenten Possibility

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you. Ephesians 4:32

Unforgiveness will turn you into someone you never intended to be, displaying the attitudes and qualities you detest in others. – Nancy DeMoss

There is no revenge so complete as forgiveness. – Josh Billings

A happy marriage is the union of two forgivers. – Ruth Bell Graham

At that point Peter got up the nerve to ask, “Master, how many times do I forgive a brother or sister who hurts me? Seven?” Jesus replied, “Seven! Hardly. Try seventy times seven.” Matthew 18:21-22, MSG

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I’ve heard some amazing Lenten sacrifices in this year’s offerings, from much-needed radiation treatment for an advancing cancer to finally laying down grief in the loss of a dearly loved parent.

Here’s one I have not heard, although I have no doubt it’s being offered:

How about forgiving?

There are some really great wins and guarantees to our forgiving an offense:

(1) it lessens its intensity

(2) it reduces its frequency of reminding you of the offense

(3) it expands my capacity to (finally!) be a loving, inoffensible person

If we truly see the wealth of what can be gained by simply forgiving, we might not only adopt it as a Lenten possibility, but a lifetime reality.

To fail to extend forgiveness–even to someone who does not request it–puts the offended person in a bunkered-down state. Moving forward is out of the question. There is no future for an unforgiving person, only the baleful reliving of the past. Over and over again. It is deadly toxic and crippling.

Of all the things that choke and poison spiritual growth, resentments are probably the most devastatingly effective.
E. Stanley Jones

Stop living as though someone else is to blame for your life. Get revenge on whoever offended you by letting them out of your debtor’s jail. The joke will be on them. While they think they are getting a reprieve, it will be you who will finally breathe the fresh air and run through fields of wildflowers beneath cobalt skies. Go on, forgive them. Release it. Let it go.

And, for mercy’s sake, move on.

The Fine Art of Waiting on God

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I wait for the Lord…my whole being waits…”
Psalm 130:5

Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you.
Shakespeare, Sonnet 57

The next time God closes a door, don’t look for a window. Maybe we should just find a couch and sit for awhile.
Jason Upton

I am in a season of waiting.

I have an expectancy in this hour that God will come through for me where I most need Him to. Hope is what I am clinging to; not run-of-the-mill, common wishful thinking, but the way Paul uses it in the NT. And Peter. A settled, bankable confidence.

I fully expect to blog someday about how God came to my rescue, and that He did it in a magical, unexpected, and exceptional way. I’ve even given Him room to answer my cry way outside the lines of my asking.

He’s done it before. Lots of times. And He’ll do it again.

There’s poetry in waiting.

The word sounds like its a bad thing, but I’ve learned a thing or two about this…activity. Yes, I chose my word very carefully.

Waiting is not idleness. It is anything but passive or being in retreat. Waiting is not static. Waiting on God is the season in which our inner man advances. We’ve learned that our children do their growing while they sleep. So it is with God’s child. We do our most and best growing in our restful seasons of waiting on God.

Tell me your waiting story.

The Rest Of The Story

Take a close look at the picture I’m using as my banner.

Sheep, right?

While it serves the motif of “Green Pastures” well, it’s what you cannot see in the frame that tells the bigger story. I’m going to “page-break” here and make you work a little–just a tad–to find out the, uh, rest…of…the…story. Continue reading The Rest Of The Story