Forgiving (and Forgetting)


Forgiving (and Forgetting)

TeresaandDeanLast night, I blew it. I mean I blew up, lashed out, and totally shattered my normally passive persona. Yes, it happens on occasion. Not frequently, but certainly more often than I'd like.

I protested, with a capital "P", when my husband changed the TV channel from a show I was watching. Keep in mind that he gets to pick what to watch 90% of the time. Only one or two shows a week interest me enough to watch, so I really had a royal outburst when he did it to me once again.

After screaming my disgust with him, I stomped to the bedroom, closed the door pretty forcefully, and let myself pout and stew for a few minutes.

When I felt calmer and more in control and knew that God had already forgiven me, I had to find out if my loving husband would accept my apology too. At first, it didn't appear he had. This was very disappointing. But after my second stab at an apology, he had finally gotten over it, and we were back on good terms.

What a lesson for me to never harbor negative, unloving thoughts and to forgive unconditionally. If God is quick to forgive, how dare we wallow in our self-pity and hurt pride and not forgive someone. The only way to repair our relationships with anyone is to forgive, even before they ask for it, and even when they don't. (That's how Jesus forgave when He was up on the cross.)

That short period of time when I felt unforgiven was horrible. Hopefully this experience makes me even more diligent about forgiving those who have injured me in any way. I must try to feel things from their perspective.

And there's no one I'd hate to neglect doing this for than my own husband. With his brain injury, he typically has outbursts almost daily. I've just had to get used to them.

He is almost always apologetic after his outbursts, when he can remember having them. I must be careful to immediately honor his attempts to reconcile, even when it happens multiple times a day.

I thank God every day for this life of a caregiver. The lessons never stop coming. I am determined to be a master at forgiving seventy times seven...or basically forever.

(Reprinted from my blog called "Lessons of Faith in the Life of a Caregiver" at