I know I'm breathing, but am I alive?
"I'm learning to live without you now
But I miss you sometimes
The more I know, the less I understand
All the things I thought I knew
I'm learning again
I've been trying to get down
To the heart of the matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I'm thinking about forgiveness
Forgiveness
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore"
The interesting, and often difficult, thing about forgiveness is that it is a daily occurrence. For most of us, we don't forgive and it's gone, as though it never happened. For most of us, the things and the people we've forgiven over the years will be brought to our minds at random over the course of our entire lifetimes, and we will be forced to either live with them or to forgive them over and over again. I read on a blog recently that, "forgiveness is giving up the hope that the past could have been any different". While as intellectual creatures we may be capable of realizing and understanding that it's impossible to change the past, as human beings some small part of us may always hold onto that deep desire that our lives could have turned out differently. And for some, the past that they're incapable of changing is the core of who they are, is all they've ever known, and is something deeply powerful to try and overcome. I think we're too hard on others. Sometimes we expect others to forgive and forget because that's what we've been able to do in our lives; sometimes our hearts are in the right place, in that we know the freedom that forgiveness leads to and we want others to know that freedom also. But it takes time for others, just as it probably did for us, and each person will come to that place in their own time. It's important to practice patience in situations where we feel affected by another's behavior, even in those instances that don't directly involve us. Some people simply don't know any better. Some people simply aren't capable of being the better person, at least not as quickly as we want them to be.
Christopher and I have begun reading a daily devotion together in the mornings, just after breakfast. Today was our first day. The reading was about Jesus' free emotions, and how that relates to today's ideas that men are to be stoic. How we seem to be ashamed to cry or to show our feelings, while Jesus wept openly on numerous occasions. Did He have it right? Well, I suppose He must have. He is the Son of God, after all. I definitely have trouble displaying my emotions to just anyone. Emotions make us vulnerable, and we don't want to be vulnerable to others. We're untrusting, and we're afraid of getting hurt, of feeling rejected or, worse--pitied. I sort of have a love/hate relationship with emotions. I'm easily annoyed or angered by those who complain or wear their emotions on their sleeve; and at the same time I admire their courage and their ability to put themselves out there, especially in a society where they must know they're almost certain to be rejected.
I'm reading Exodus right now. I have to admit, I have trouble with this book of the Bible. I know it must be important; otherwise it wouldn't have been included in the Bible. But I have difficulty finding much relevence to my own life today in it. So it's really just kind of... boring, to read, when they spend five pages explaining what the tabernacle should look like.
We're finally donating blood again. It's something I've really missed. Sometimes I wonder if anyone ever gets my blood. I wonder what they're like. I wonder if it feels strange to know that someone else's blood is moving through you.
But I miss you sometimes
The more I know, the less I understand
All the things I thought I knew
I'm learning again
I've been trying to get down
To the heart of the matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I'm thinking about forgiveness
Forgiveness
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore"
The interesting, and often difficult, thing about forgiveness is that it is a daily occurrence. For most of us, we don't forgive and it's gone, as though it never happened. For most of us, the things and the people we've forgiven over the years will be brought to our minds at random over the course of our entire lifetimes, and we will be forced to either live with them or to forgive them over and over again. I read on a blog recently that, "forgiveness is giving up the hope that the past could have been any different". While as intellectual creatures we may be capable of realizing and understanding that it's impossible to change the past, as human beings some small part of us may always hold onto that deep desire that our lives could have turned out differently. And for some, the past that they're incapable of changing is the core of who they are, is all they've ever known, and is something deeply powerful to try and overcome. I think we're too hard on others. Sometimes we expect others to forgive and forget because that's what we've been able to do in our lives; sometimes our hearts are in the right place, in that we know the freedom that forgiveness leads to and we want others to know that freedom also. But it takes time for others, just as it probably did for us, and each person will come to that place in their own time. It's important to practice patience in situations where we feel affected by another's behavior, even in those instances that don't directly involve us. Some people simply don't know any better. Some people simply aren't capable of being the better person, at least not as quickly as we want them to be.
Christopher and I have begun reading a daily devotion together in the mornings, just after breakfast. Today was our first day. The reading was about Jesus' free emotions, and how that relates to today's ideas that men are to be stoic. How we seem to be ashamed to cry or to show our feelings, while Jesus wept openly on numerous occasions. Did He have it right? Well, I suppose He must have. He is the Son of God, after all. I definitely have trouble displaying my emotions to just anyone. Emotions make us vulnerable, and we don't want to be vulnerable to others. We're untrusting, and we're afraid of getting hurt, of feeling rejected or, worse--pitied. I sort of have a love/hate relationship with emotions. I'm easily annoyed or angered by those who complain or wear their emotions on their sleeve; and at the same time I admire their courage and their ability to put themselves out there, especially in a society where they must know they're almost certain to be rejected.
I'm reading Exodus right now. I have to admit, I have trouble with this book of the Bible. I know it must be important; otherwise it wouldn't have been included in the Bible. But I have difficulty finding much relevence to my own life today in it. So it's really just kind of... boring, to read, when they spend five pages explaining what the tabernacle should look like.
We're finally donating blood again. It's something I've really missed. Sometimes I wonder if anyone ever gets my blood. I wonder what they're like. I wonder if it feels strange to know that someone else's blood is moving through you.