Adventures in Offense and Forgiveness Pt 3

See here for "Adventures In Offense and Forgiveness Pt 2."

See here for "Adventures In Offense and Forgiveness Pt 1."

In my abject fear that I was close to immediate bankruptcy, I not only had to deal with an out of control family budget, I had to deal with some pretty well entrenched and sadly familiar demons.

The Holy Spirit gave me at least two visions. The first was of me as a small flat “skipping stone” that had been expertly and powerfully thrown. That was it. That was my vision! I couldn't help but think that I was bound to run out of whatever energies were keeping me just above the surface. The “law” of physics say the energy must eventually disperse, I must eventually sink, and I was so certain that it would happen any second. If you've ever skipped stones across a quiet lake, you know it doesn't take long.

The next came weeks later, and thankfully I understood what was being said. The second was of the propeller of a large ship. The ship had been moored but it was now time to leave the port. The propellers are spinning furiously and with great roar and froth and churning. But the boat does not move right away. Its bulk is simply too great, and the water needs to move a great deal to get any motion out of the boat.

I don't consider the presence of water in both visions to be a coincidence, and I believe both are related.

Adventures In Offense and Forgiveness Pt 2

See here for Adventures In Offense and Forgiveness; part 1.

It was many, many years before I realized I was carrying the terror around with me, and that I had to forgive him to get past it. Authority figures just scared me, especially if they came across as threatening or if they succeeded in intimidating me. It wasn't easy, though I have from a distance relieved myself of his evil by forgiving him.

Here's what is odd. It wasn't until I forgave HIM that I realized he wasn't the real culprit because, like me, he was just a kid. And fear, though it was real and sometimes debilitating, wasn't my real problem. It was given to me that I was really more upset with my dad. How could he have left me with him? I know my sister and another brother corroborated my story. Yet dad continued to leave us with the older brother. My soul was trying to grapple with betrayal. My heart had come to believe that there is no use in trying to convince anyone of anything. They weren't going to believe me anyway. My lot was to suffer quietly like a good boy.

I thought the hard work of forgiveness was over, but God was just waiting for me to open up to Him before He could work on me.

After forgiving dad, the real task began. I had to confront the God who was always aware, and yet always allowed the pain. God is God. He is in charge. He can't pretend, as mom and dad would, that He did not know. He knew, and allowed it. Is it arrogant to suppose I should forgive God?

Job 40:2 “Will the one who contends with the Almighty correct him? Let the person who accuses God give him an answer!”

Maybe real faith is hardest when the victory is nearest. When the revelation is most important, the obstacles will rise up in my flesh so as to seem so much more urgent. I am most likely to forget who God is when I find myself thinking He is most pleased with me. When my flaws (still mighty, still plentiful) are revealed to me – however gently – I still want to run for cover.

Job 40:8 “Would you indeed annul my justice? Would you declare me guilty so that you might be right?”

Busted.

I am not God. I am not God. The repetition is necessary. I am not God. I'm sorry, Lord, I do indeed forget which of us is mighty, and which of us is needed by the other just to stand. When God brought His revelation of my forgiveness to mind He used terror. He knew exactly how to get my attention. In my careless wandering through post home-schooling life, he reminded me there is still plenty of life to live, and still some trash to take to the curb.

Adventures In Offense and Forgiveness

Forgiveness is so weird.

When I was a kid, my oldest brother would baby sit for mom and dad when they went out. It was sometimes a happy evening. There would be board games, TV, and my favorite, home made popcorn. Elder brother made some very good popcorn with hot melted butter and plenty of salt.

In my memory, he was always healthy, I don't remember him ever being ill. But he was a “miracle child” of sorts. He developed polio when very young, and I'm sure my parents were scared to death for him. Certainly modern medicine played a part, but I was told the treatments that eventually cured him were very painful. Being a Catholic family, I know many prayers went up to the Father.

Perhaps that explains some of why they wouldn't listen. Not to diminish my brother's toughness in continuing with the struggle, but his cure was an answer to prayer, proof of God's awareness of their sorrow. It's my understanding that Salk could prevent the dreaded disease, but not cure it. How my brother was spared I don't know, except for God's intervention.

I don't know why my brother seemed to pick me out for torment; perhaps I was too much of a handful, a whiner, or a baby for him. Maybe having been freed from having to watch from the sidelines, he resented being put back on the sidelines for his slobbering, helpless siblings. He used to beat me up. I'm not sure if he ever really hurt me, I don't remember that. But I remember being terrified whenever my parents went out. And I remember they had a very difficult time believing me.