Forgiving My Way Back To Mission

Many early mornings I run and work out near the river at a park in our county. It’s quiet. For a while, I would run while listening to a book. Then I realized I needed the quiet, so now I run in silence.

I come from a religious tradition that is rather wordy in its practice of worship and devotion, and I was slow to silence and solitude as spiritual disciplines. When I was less convinced of God’s love for me, I disliked being alone in silence and would often feel restless if I tried. I used to have less awareness as to why, but now I understand. The restlessness surfaced in me because my soul would actually say real things. Some of those real things were ugly. When the ugly things came out, it was hard for me to face them and believe God still loved me. So it was better to surround myself with noise, with friends and ministry and words.

Now, more than I ever have, I believe God loves me. So when my soul speaks, no matter how surprising or ugly it is – no matter how much I feel like what it’s saying should never come out of my mouth – I still believe God loves me. If it’s ugly then it means I need grace to deal with it. But because God loves me, I believe grace is available even for the ugly things my soul might say.

So here’s what’s been happening to me lately when I run in silence and my soul is speaking: resentments are surfacing.

There’s a bigger offense. If I told you the story, I think you’d understand why I feel hurt. It's a situation that requires revisiting the practice of forgiveness from time to time. But most of the offenses I'm thinking about are really very small. Comments that were made in passing. Sentences uttered in a moment of raw emotion. Inconsistencies I perceive in a person’s behavior. Ways I was overlooked. It’s been a challenging season for all of us, and maybe the weariness of that reality has made it easier for me to feel offended at times.

My mind wants to turn all of these small things into big things. In the court of my mind, I want to remove a comment that was said to me from the context of the conversation in which it was made (even though I was there for the context), replay the comment over and over again, and make the comment sound far worse than what was actually meant by it. I want to ruminate on these misdemeanors and how I didn’t deserve to receive them. I want to sulk and sit in the offense.

You could chalk this up to normal human experience. We all get offended, right? And we all chew on the pain, right? But I’ve found that these small slights, these offenses that sit like barbs in my soul, these comments that I choose to replay again and again in my mind during runs in the early morning – these are the very things that hinder mission.

It’s not as if our spiritual enemy really tries new things; it’s just that we fall for the same old things again and again. All around the world, God beings to stir movement by His Spirit. People begin to pray together. Mission begins to move. There’s a sense that something is happening that has its origins in God. And then offense happens. Words are said. Misunderstandings occur. Texts and emails are sent. People get hurt. They distance from one another. And movement begins to sputter.

This is real. It’s not just about how my soul wants to process offense when I'm alone early in the morning. Unresolved, this offense has potential tangible manifestations in the way I treat people, my capacity to serve others, and the freedom of my soul to love others. Unresolved, these offenses will often turn into the slightest, almost unobservable retreats. Maybe I engage in conversation a little less, maybe my cynicism causes me to invest a little less, maybe the offense causes me to trust a little less; maybe I laugh a little less, hug a little less, pray a little less, risk a little less. Maybe I show up a little less. Maybe no one notices. But it’s all less investment in relationship, and in my case, this means less investment in mission. The mission doesn’t happen without these relationships. Our love for the poor, our programs, our presence in the streets, our unity in prayer – it’s all bound up in these relationships.

“Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.”

That’s how Jesus taught us to pray. Hypocrisy isn’t being a follower of Jesus and still having sin in my life that requires forgiveness. It’s receiving forgiveness, even enjoying it, from the Father and then refusing to give it to the next person.

I know I have some steps to take. Some offenses just need overlooked because the problem is really on my end. In some instances I need to reflect on how I myself contributed negatively to some of these situations. Some of these offenses might require a conversation, but I’m actually quite confident that reconciliation is easily within reach. In all these instances I need to release these debts and forgive, just as my debts have been forgiven. Why carry this heaviness on morning runs any longer? It’s so much easier to run with a lighter soul.

Yesterday morning I woke up around 6:00 AM and drove to the river to run and pray. On my way I told the Lord, “Surface any resentment in me and give me the grace to release it.”

I parked where I normally park. I ran down to the playground where I do pull-ups. I started to pray as I normally do, “Lord, let my soul rise up to meet You, as the day rises to meet the sun. Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen.” I did my pull-ups and pushups. A blue heron startled out of the tall grass and flew across the river. I sensed His Presence.

No resentment came to my mind on this morning. As I prayed and read from the Scripture readings in Judges and Acts, I was overwhelmed at the goodness, mercy, and love of God. This God has loved me at my worst, even when I’ve run in the morning while recalling petty resentments at every step. Even when I’ve been immature. Even when I’ve chosen offense over His love. I found myself full of worship this morning as I thought about His faithfulness.

I was expecting to work through the details of some particular offense during this morning run, and that probably still needs to happen. But instead, He gave me His Word, prayer, a blue heron, mist on a river, and a rising sun. He gave me His Presence and His love. This is always what He does. I take one step toward Him only to find He’s been taking a hundred toward me. Forgiveness, release, and reconciliation are always so within reach because His love is so near.

As I ran back to my car I decided I’m going to forgive. I'm going to forgive my way back to relationship. Back to communion with His love. Back to mission.