Forgiveness is a difficult thing. Sin does not wire us to naturally put aside grievances and wrongs done against us or others. We take the opposite view: we cling to offenses as if they were floating boards of wood after our ships wreck. We think they’re the only things that can save us from drowning – while if we would only look up we would find a ship ready to take us aboard and save us.

It’s true there are people in our lives who have done things to us, purposefully or not, that hurt more than words can express. The wounds aren’t just deep – they’re gaping. And time doesn’t heal. Our minds play them over and over again until our hearts ache and tears roll down our cheeks. Most of us know this pain that is very real, very hard, and very personal.

Yet we also know our Savior’s words in Matthew 6: “And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.” As one theologian put it, “Lord, may You forgive my faults and failures towards You to the same extent as I have forgiven the faults and failures of others towards me.” Would you like the Lord do that to you?

The truth is God’s forgiveness towards us does not depend upon our actions. We don’t have to do anything to gain His forgiveness and salvation. As Paul said in Romans, “For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.” So thankfully our gracious heavenly Father does not forgive us as we forgive others. And yet He does want us to forgive as He forgives. And we surely fall short of that.

Usually a day doesn’t go by when I don’t think of the one person I believe has caused the greatest pain in my life. It’s a hurt that festered for years before bursting forth, and the wound remains as tender now as then. As my pastor spoke on forgiveness from Matthew 6 Sunday morning, I thought of something I had read in Acts during my devotions. On the day of Pentecost, Peter spoke the crowd and stated that Christ was delivered into the wicked hands that crucified Him by the “determinate counsel” of God. In other words, the “definite plan” of a sovereign, foreordaining God. I had been thinking that morning as I readied myself for church that God also has a “definite plan” for my life. I think of that often, stuck in the concrete desert of Texas with a sweltering summer upon me, and find comfort in my heavenly Father and His love. Even here, I am in the palm of His hand. Nothing will happen to me He has not already seen and knows. Nor has anything happened in the last thirty years of my life that He had not seen and knew would be. So, I wondered on the drive home from church, God knew this person would hurt me and it was in His definite plan for my life. If I keep dredging the pain up with only a miniscule amount of forgiveness, am I truly mad at this person or am I really mad at my sovereign Father for letting it happen?

I’ve never really thought myself as mad at God for what’s happened and the ache in my heart over it. I’ve always given a nod of acknowledgement to God’s loving sovereignty over it all and the continual consequences. And, yet, I think I have been mad at God – or, at the very least, I have not forgiven as He forgives me.

So does this revelation give me an overwhelming capability to forgive? To forget? To get rid of this pain? No. To forgive, yes. To ask for grace every day to give the thing a rest in my mind, yes. To forget, unfortunately, never. To quit the pain, no. But it is one small step on this narrow road I am taking Home. And yet another reason to praise my loving Father for His grace to continue on.

My Week

Seems like there's not much to write about this week. Things have been pretty normal. Work was incredibly slow. I'm not complaining. We needed a slow week. And it only means I'll soon be running circles again...

Played tennis, went to my writer's critique group, jumped rope, jogged, played on the wii, watched a movie, read and learned to play a card game called Pennies from Grandpa. It was fun...even though I didn't start out very well.

Went to a lady's luncheon at church today. It was very nice, although it's another one of those moments when I feel a bit lonely. Growing up surrounded by sisters, it's strange to go to something like that by yourself.

And I got a new experience today: I watched the Kentucky Derby. All two minutes of it. I don't think I'll ever get into that kind of sport but it's much more exciting that Nascar. The horses run around the course once and the race is over. Nascar? They drive around a course a gazillion times and you wait forever. How does anyone find that exciting?

The Locusts Have Eaten

“And I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten…” Joel 2:25a

This verse was given to my father nearly six years ago when my younger brother walked out of our house – yet to return. I think of it often when I pray for Daniel, wondering how such a promise could come true. For it has been nearly six long, hard years. And from what I know of my brother’s life, he has pursued a wide path over the narrow one every time.

The pastor of my church here in Texas has been preaching through the minor prophets on Sunday evenings. Last night he started on the book of Joel. I’ve read the book many times, but I never realized that verse 25 of chapter 2 ties back to verse 4 of chapter 1. In the ESV that verse reads:

What the cutting locust left, the swarming locust has eaten. What the swarming locust left, the hopping locust has eaten, and what the hopping locust left, the destroying locust has eaten.

Reading it in that version, it gave me the picture that what one locust did not eat, the next – worse – type came to eat, and then again and again until nothing was left in the land. God sent my great army (2:25) to completely destroy the land of His people. No food to eat, no crops to buy or sell, not even a blade of grass to run their bare feet through. Complete annihilation.

And from that I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten. In my limited mind, the very idea that complete destruction can be restored is beyond comprehension. For it isn’t just about going from nothing to everything. “Restore” denotes recovery and return as if the locusts had never swarmed at all. Try to get your mind around that.

Sometimes in life, it seems like God is after our complete destruction. Wouldn’t it be enough if the prodigal just ran away? Instead, he spends his living among harlots and riotous living. Or wasn’t it enough for Job to lose his livelihood and family? Did he have to lose his health, too? And yet…the prodigal returned and Job was given twice as much as he had before.

It’s very hard to see how completely destroyed years can be restored. But God can do it. We must trust Him…even if it takes a lifetime.

It's been one of those weeks full of wonderful things. For one, work was quiet. In fact, some days I was in the office all by myself. I accomplished everything on my "to-do" list. I shredded a whole box full of papers. I love weeks when I feel like I've really done something.

I wrote nearly three chapters in my book this week - a record since my move here to Texas. I have only two left to write, and about half the book to share with my critique group who really like it. It's great to get some time to write. And also time to map out the road trip my friend Jenny and I will be taking at the end of May. Got all our destinations set. Next week I'll book the hotels. Then we'll just need to plug in all the details. I can't wait! Civil War battlefields, new places to see, Southern plantations...it can't come too soon.

I housesat with Jenny as her family was gone (which means my boss was out of town). Change of pace, which is always nice. We watched North and South - one of my very favorite movies. We just laid around, chatted and were very grateful it rained both Thursday and Saturday night so we didn't have to water her mother's jungle.

Wednesday was "Professional Administrative Assistant's Day" and most of the nurses, the social worker and one of the chaplains took me out to lunch. Mexican food! Yummy! And gifts, too. Truly, I work with some amazing people and it is great to be a part of their lives.

When I got back to the Harris's on Wednesday evening, I checked the e-mail account I keep for contacts in my writing "career". I got an e-mail from the editor of Clubhouse (Focus on the Family's magazine for kids ages 7 to 9). They have accepted my quiz about brothers and sisters in the Bible. When I got back to Grandpa's today, the contract was waiting for me. I can hardly believe it!!!!!!!! My first step, I hope, into the world of publishing. A short story next maybe?

Last night Jenny and I went to see the play Cinderella at the local community theatre. It was very good, but I must say my favorite part was the two little girls sitting next to me. About three and four years of age, they came with their mother. They were dressed in flouncing pink "princess" dresses. During the play when one of the step sisters hit the other in the nose, the littler girl pointed to the stage and whispered loudly, "That one in the pink dress - she needs to say she's sorry!" Then, during the ball scene, they crawled from their seats and started dancing with each other in the empty aisle next to them. Adorable!

And today I got a bookshelf. Meaning I could get all the stacks of books off the floor here at my grandfather's. I just love bookshelves full of books...

Patriot's Day

For those of you who do not live in New England, you probably have no idea that today is Patriot’s Day. And, no, we’re not talking about a football team. Search way back into your elementary school history class and you might come up with the answer. Think “Shot Heard Around the World”.

I remember very clearly in my 4^th grade history book seeing in bold letters “The Shot Heard Around the World”. I thought, “Wow! That must have been some gun. Did everyone in the world really hear it?” I soon learned historians use that term to describe the start of a powerful war – war that changes history. And that is exactly what the American Revolution did.

On April 19, 1775 someone on the green of Lexington, Massachusetts fired a shot. Perhaps it was a British soldier, a man dressed in a redcoat who had marched all the way from Boston that night in order to obtain a store of munitions and gunpowder rumored to be kept in Concord. Most of the British soldiers in 1775 were sick and tired of America, the people, and the duty England demanded upon them. If they could, they deserted. Unfortunately for those stationed in Boston, desertion could be quite difficult – something akin to running away from an island as one could get into the city either by sea or by walking a cross a very narrow neck of land. It wouldn’t take much for one of them to shoot.

On the other hand, the American minutemen weren’t exactly even-tempered. Aroused from their beds late that night by Paul Revere and other riders, threatened by an invading army and tired of British tyranny – anyone of those men on the Lexington green that day could have fired a shot at a red coat. After all, what’s an easier target to see than that?

The most interesting hypothesis on that shot is that it was fired from a neighboring house. If you visit Lexington, you will find that the Green is surrounded by old, colonial homes all within easy shooting distance. Well, whoever fired that shot started something: the American Revolution.

And today is the 235^th anniversary of the Battles of Lexington and Concord. The beginning of the Revolution. The first in a chain of events that would lead to the birth of our grand nation under God. For the Americans would show the British that day both in Lexington and in Concord that they were not going to back down. They would have their freedom. They would send England packing. And even though it took another eight years to accomplish it all, that is exactly what happened.

And that, my friends, is the history of Patriot’s Day. It is a state-wide holiday in Massachusetts and Maine. Complete with a reenactment of the battles and march in the towns of Lexington and Concord. As for the remaining forty-eight states of this grand nation, the day will pass with hardly a moment of remembrance. And, if you ask me, that’s sad. For this nation wouldn’t have Memorial Day, the Fourth of July or Veteran’s Day if it didn’t first have Patriot’s Day. A day to remind us of what our forefathers did to give us the freedom we enjoy today.