Forgiveness does not come naturally to me. I tend to hoard resentment, taking it out to allow it to fester and grow. Maya Angelou once said, “Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. It doesn’t do anything to the object of its displeasure.” Many times, the people I have the most resentment toward have no idea that I am even annoyed with them, yet I permit the hard feelings to consume me.
I think the person I am often hardest on is myself. I reflect back on the all the sinful and stupid things I have done over the years, and I let that define who I am. These feelings paralyze me and hold me back from doing what God wants me to.
When I choose not to forgive myself or forgive others, I am minimizing the sacrifice that Jesus died on my behalf. He already died for each sin ever committed against me and each sin I have committed. God has already forgiven me because of this sacrifice.
In my fifties, I want to let go of an unforgiving heart just as I would a helium balloon, watching it float further and further from me until it ultimately fades into the heavens. Life is just too short to keep a death grip on what I should have released long ago.
This post is part of a 31 Day Blogging Challenge entitled Embracing Fifty. Please click here to find all the posts in this series. You can find the work of more bloggers participating in this series here. You’ll be glad you did!