I’ve often been complimented on my ability to move on without holding a grudge. Even while ending my first marriage, people remember how well I spoke of my ex-husband. I went out of my way to tell them what a great father he was, and that we were just two “very different people.” But to be honest, I have been far too hasty to stamp many hurtful relationships as “case closed,” labeling them “too painful to remember,” seeking only to file them away in the do-not-revisit memory bank, and glad to toss away the key. In fact, I became a master at forgiving, to me otherwise known as, “just moving on”—moving forward, moving faster, running harder and not looking back. I developed an amazing ability to self-talk my way out of pain by simply “getting over it.” I was on a one-way mission to replace bad memories with good ones and, really, what’s the harm in that?

Over the years I can’t tell you how many sermons I’ve heard on forgiveness. I would often tune out after the first bullet point because I didn’t feel forgiveness was a struggle for me. After all, I didn’t hate anyone. I didn’t wish harm on even my worst enemy. I didn’t even have enemies. And I rarely thought about those who had wronged me because, frankly, I was too busy to care. Yes, there were moments, reminders, often in silence, when those uninvited memories would pay a painful visit; but I thought little of it. In the end, how can we not let something hurt us from time to time? We’re only human, right?

Or so I thought, until my late 20s when I shared a heartfelt conversation with my husband. It was well before we were married, but I already respected so much of his insight. I was telling him about a specific painful memory. I don’t remember what memory I was referring to, but I do remember that we were in his car driving on I-215 heading towards Henderson, NV. He was wearing a blue striped polo with khaki shorts and I was in a sundress. For those of you who know me, it is remarkable when I remember anything, yet alone the little details. But that’s just how much this conversation impacted my life.

As I was telling him about a situation, I mentioned how I had forgiven this person, but what they did to me still hurt. He replied, “Well, then, you haven’t forgiven them.” I said what? And then felt the need to further explain:

“I don’t have anger in my heart towards them. I’m not mad. But I can’t help that it still hurts.”

Again, Michael said, “Then, you haven’t forgiven them completely.”

Hold on. Just what was he implying? I felt almost accused. I thought I had done pretty well all these years not harboring resentment towards people, and now he wanted to act as though my hurts weren’t justified? I didn’t get it.

But, he explained, it’s not the Father’s heart to leave you with even a tad bit of hurt. Why would He only give us enough forgiveness to simply not be angry? That’s only part of the process. He explained how God wanted to give me so much forgiveness that even the hurt caused by these memories would be healed. That’s how good our Father is!

(…And this is why I married this man!)

I still wasn’t convinced, but he had my attention.

My next thought was, ‘Man I wish I wouldn’t have tuned out all those messages on forgiveness!’

With that, a new journey began. Michael had given me new hope, and the security of our relationship gave me strength. It was time to tear off the Band-Aids and let those old wounds heal. In truth, I was tired. Running away from the past was a lifelong commitment and my knees were aching. I’ve now come to realize that dealing with the past is also a lifelong commitment, but it’s rooted in rest. For me, this is an even bigger challenge than running, but I can tell you it works!

I started to pray that God would give me so much forgiveness that when I thought of these painful memories, I wouldn’t get that tight knot in my throat. I wouldn’t feel bad about myself. I wouldn’t want to avoid certain people at church or out running errands. I asked for so much forgiveness that my heart would live unoffended and whole; that I would actually be drawn towards people who had hurt me, and I would be able to love them without hesitation.

It’s been eight years since Michael and I had that talk, and I can say there are still certain people and situations that I struggle to forgive in this deeper way. But I’ve learned this is not my struggle. At a certain point, it requires that I only let go and let God, knowing that God gives me complete forgiveness and wholeness in every way. And, even though I’m still working through some painful memories, there are many more that God has completely healed.

So, here I am in 2015, dealing with my mom taking her life. Again, I’m not angry but, of course, I have experienced unfathomable hurt. At the end of last year, I could feel God telling me it was time to forgive her. It wasn’t enough that I was trusting Him with my family, He wanted my pain, too. I wasn’t ready for that, but the process began even before I had the sense to choose it. And then, in 2015, something shifted. I went on the offense by surrendering. I would visualize myself literally taking the pain from my heart, lifting my hands, and letting it go. As weeks passed, the tension in my shoulders was leaving. The lump in my throat was dissolving. I’ve gone from sobbing to smiling with tear-filled eyes. And I’m still forgiving.

Do I believe I can have this much forgiveness? So much that even the pain of her leaving us in this way would be forever gone? Yes, I do. Because my Father is that good. Because His forgiveness is that real.

Maybe you have a pain? A memory? A somebody? A wound you never imagined that God could heal? Maybe you’re even choosing to hold onto pain because you don’t want that somebody to feel like they got away with what they did?

One day, during this process of forgiveness, I was praying. I saw Jesus on the cross all bloodied and beaten looking to the heavens and uttering those famous words, “Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do.” I remember thinking to myself, ‘But they did know what they were doing! They beat Him! Put nails in His hands and feet! Poured vinegar on His wounds just to make it more painful. How could they not know what they were doing?’ But the truth is that they didn’t know. They didn’t know they were killing the Messiah. They didn’t believe He was the Son of God.

And then, right there, in that moment, God gave me new strategy on forgiveness, a strategy that I’m inspired to share with you now.

I think of situations where people hurt me, whether they were totally unaware, or if their pure intent was to cause me pain and distress. Then, I speak over each and every one of them, saying, “Forgive them Father, for they know not what they did.” I choose to give them the benefit of the doubt. Whether they did it intentionally or unintentionally, they didn’t really know the damage they were doing. They couldn’t have known the level of pain it was causing me, even all these weeks and years later, and I choose to forgive them. After all, if Jesus could do it on the cross…I’m without excuse.

Still Forgiving,

One Blessed Struggler

Hey there and welcome to my blog. My name is Norina. I am One Blessed Struggler, and maybe you are too?

Of course, you’re not about to throw yourself a pity party, because you know better. You’re fully aware of how blessed you are and how much worse others in this world have it. In fact, you’re so aware that at times it overwhelms you. It even keeps you from facing your personal struggles because you feel, in the grand scheme of things, your pain is irrelevant. But you cannot deny you are hurting and, even though you could have earned an Oscar with your ability to look like you’re facing it like a champion— life’s challenges aren’t going away. You put everyone’s needs in front of yours because it gives you purpose and, after all, they’re counting on you to hold it together. But what means so much to you in a moment seems not to matter at all the next. You struggle to accept what others don’t seem to think twice about. But maybe they do? Maybe we are all full of the very same fears, inadequacies, jealousies, and tendencies, and until one of us talks about it, we’ll just all go on struggling alone.

I dedicate this blog to my mom. She lost her fight to her struggle one year ago today. She was the most selfless person I’ve ever known. Her only fault was caring too much about others and not enough about herself. She was hurting but, like most of us Type-A personalities, was so accomplished it was easy to ignore her struggles and all too easy for her to hide them.

I stand to break that trend. Your struggles are my struggles; they are our struggles, great and small.  Don’t worry. This blog is not going to become a big BOO-HOO fest and no, my world is not falling apart. I am actually encouraged, excited and yes, terrified to embark on this new journey with anyone who cares to listen and share.

Still Standing,

Norina