Making Forgiveness Easier

Forgiveness is easy, when compared to the correct subject.

Life is relative.  What is easy for some is very difficult for others.  Math is a great example.  My two boys with autism love math.  It is very easy for them to grasp and compute.  They both took harder math classes in high school than I ever did in college.  Oh yeah, I did not take ANY math class in college because trigonometry in high school was enough for me.  I muddled through that class after endless hours of studying.  My sons breeze through those calculations without effort.  I wish I had that ability.

My boys roll their eyes at me, not understanding how I can’t grasp the simple concepts.

In contrast, I enjoy writing. It can be fun, even a welcomed challenge to me.  For my boys, writing is downright painful.  They’d rather do their Saturday chores than write.  They will even do MY chores to procrastinate that tedious task of putting words on paper.  Once they sit down to write, the dead would complain about my kids’ groans that permeate the air.  My sons equate writing to a medieval torture, and should be outlawed.

I roll my eyes at them, not understanding how they can’t grasp the simple concepts.

Then there’s forgiveness.  Admitting we are wrong is a cinch, and proclaiming our bad habits is preferred!   We can do those easily instead of letting go of a grudge against someone who has hurt us.  How can we not see that forgiveness lets us live free from angst?

Christ may be rolling his eyes as to why we can’t grasp the simple concept.

To make it easier, just compare forgiveness to a dreaded issue, like math or writing.  Maybe then we can take those baby steps and find it easier to forgive.

On Forgiving People Who Aren't Sorry

Recently we lost my dear mother-in-law, and as everyone knows who has ever been through loss, it’s a very sensitive time when hearts are raw and it’s easy to hurt someone without knowing it- or, as it sometimes happens, while knowing it perfectly well.

A situation arose with some family members who had not been involved at all, or very little, with Mom’s life while she was declining, but who felt comfortable setting up in her house after she passed, and then even decamping with a large amount of her belongings afterward with no notice. We walked into her house with the kids to try to come to terms with their grief, have some talk and prayer time together, and were greeted with big empty places where lamps, large rugs, and paintings had been. The place looked like it had been looted.

Now, it’s just stuff. We’re raising our kids, as best we can, to value people over things, and they get it, sometimes even better than we (ok, I) do. But this was the day after their grandmother’s funeral. And there had been no communication beyond, hey can we take these couple of small items? Of course.

My kids had lived in that home, and had known it since their birth. Everything in it spoke of happy times with their grandparents, and even of the sad times that they had shared during the long, painful illnesses and deaths.  We could cheerfully have parted with all of those things, and more- in time, and with communication. But as it was, the kids just sat down and cried. As one of them said, “It makes her feel more dead.”

We weren’t given either time or communication, at least not before the fact. In fact, we received several emails in the days to come detailing all the other items that we were not to dispose of, because these folks would be coming back with a U-Haul.  I was, in the old expression, fit to be tied.

First of all, my kids were shocked and hurt at a time when they were already shocked and hurting. They had been constantly at the bedside of their grandmother, through thick and thin, and gave her much joy and peace as she passed away.  This is an honor, and a privilege they would never trade, but they were in need of some consolation. And they got a big smack. As a mama, I really, really don’t like it when my kids get smacked, especially when they are down, and more especially by people who ought to be concerned about their well-being, and, dare I say it, who ought to be grateful to these kids for having been with Mom when they themselves couldn’t be bothered to show up while she was alive.  For years.

So, there was rage.

Some of it was righteous anger, that people could have their priorities so messed up as to wrong Mom with their absence when she needed them, and then to help themselves to her things after she passed.

Some of it was hurt for my kids, and some for my husband and myself.  All of it, I think, was understandable.

But it was killing me. I was trying to mourn and heal, and instead was bailing out my emotional boat constantly to keep from sinking.

I am a talker- when I am upset, I have to talk about it or I will have a conniption, which I think is a combination of a stroke and a coronary event, usually involving one’s eyeballs exploding. So not only did my poor husband knew how I felt in great detail, but I felt unable to help the kids deal with their own feelings, so swamped was I.

What to do. I asked my dearest friends, my folks, and my dear brother, and they all gave me great advice, which I will impart to you.  My question was: how to forgive, truly, and to conquer this anger, when the people I need to forgive are not sorry, even a tiny bit, for anything? And may not even realize what they are doing? Which sounds awfully familiar.

Here’s what I was told, what I tried, and what worked:

1. Ask Jesus for help in forgiving. He forgave his murderers from the Cross. While they were murdering Him. And they certainly weren’t saying, “Gee, I’m sorry.” Actually hand the burden to Him, and to Mary.

2. Pray as earnestly as you can for the offenders, for the softening of their hearts, for the development of their awareness of and compassion for others. It doesn’t take away the anger, but it is hard to feel really destructively angry toward someone for whose welfare you are begging.

3. Accept that you are going to feel angry for awhile. Stop trying so hard not to feel angry. Anger itself is not a sin. “Be angry, and sin not.” (Eph. 4:26)

4. Give it a little time. It’s amazing what a week will do.

5. Step as far back from the situation as you can. Set it down, and walk away. Even if you feel you need to take care of everything and it all depends on you, set it down. Even if only for a short time. Retreat to find peace. Even soldiers are sent back from the front to recoup during a battle. Watch Band of Brothers- it’s true.

6. Try hard to find some extenuating circumstances, or to understand what in the world is going on inside those dopey heads of theirs. I.e. They are grieving too; they don’t realize what they are doing; we didn’t communicate well enough up front; the sun was in their eyes; even if it seems kind of lame to you, it’s something, and the act of trying to be generous is a good one- you will be less upset with yourself for feeling so bad.

7. Remember that forgiveness is as much, or more, for your own good than for the good of others. That kind of rage and hurt is toxic and will poison you after awhile, and will render you unable to help those around you who need you.

8. Think about hell for a couple of minutes- really think about it, envision it. Think, “Do I really want anyone in that?” Of course you don’t. You may truly wish to smack them quite hard in the face, but- not hell. That’s a comforting thought.  You do, deep deep down, wish for their ultimate good. Which, happily enough, does involve them coming to some sort of realization of what creeps they have been at some point. Just don’t expect it anytime soon… or necessarily even in this life.

9. Try some gallows humor. At first you may not be in the mood, but in the past week or so I have gotten a lot of cheap enjoyment out of pointing out to my husband various rugs that X forgot to take with him. Like the sanctuary rug at our parish church as we were kneeling for communion at the altar rail. It’s a lovely oriental. Luckily, my sweet husband has a good sense of humor. I hope God does. Anyhow laughing makes me less angry.

10. I saved this for last, because when you are really hurt and angry this is terribly hard to do- it can actually make you more angry, thinking things like, “Just because I “forgot” to pay back my son 20 bucks doesn’t mean it’s ok for these other guys to knife me in the back!!” Of course it’s not ok. It’s wrong, and getting knifed hurts, legitimately. But your stuff is not ok, either. Your kid probably needs that 20 bucks.  So give it some time and space, and then remember that you hope to be forgiven for your own stupid, careless stuff. We can’t ask God for forgiveness if we are clinging tightly to a grudge.

Has this all worked for me?  Well, it wasn’t like a whiteboard eraser, with everything disappearing at once. But a huge layer of resentment was washed away as soon as I got our Lord and His Mother involved, and then it just got better from there. When I allow myself to really think about it, I do still feel that anger trying to bubble up. So I am still maintaining a distance, until my forgiveness becomes more firmly rooted. The truth is, I don’t want to waste any more precious minutes of my life feeling like that.

Of course I realize that in the scheme of things, there are much, much harder things to forgive than what I have talked about here. I don’t pretend that I could just apply my convenient ten steps and be floating on a cloud of forgetful joy and love in every circumstance- maybe not in ANY circumstance. But forgiveness, as one of my friends reminded me, is an act of the will. Decide to do it for your own good, begin the process, and put it in God’s Hands. Whatever healing comes will come from Him anyway, so let Him handle it.  Meanwhile, know that there are people who are sorry that you are hurting, and who wish they could make it better for you, and be grateful for them. That kind of love can help begin to heal whatever injury you have sustained. Reflect on how you will someday pay them back for their kindness in your hour of need.

Which reminds me it’s time for a trip to the ATM for a twenty.

How to Become an Expert Apologizer

Step 1: mess up a lot.

Not a problem.

I am currently on the outs with my beloved husband.  Nothing major, just one of those weird sudden shifts in mood where we are both tired and don’t really understand what’s going on with each other, and we expect a different reaction than the one we get, and then we say stuff we kind of mean, but mostly don’t.

They say not to go to bed angry, but we both kind of passed out in the middle of the argument, from sheer exhaustion. “Oh yeah? Well this is what I think of YOU! zZZzzzzzz.”

Husband (we will call him Thurl for the purposes of anonymity). Thurl has to leave very early for work so I woke up just as he was leaving, with no time to do any repair work, I hate that.  He rides in a van with several other people so we can’t even talk by phone.

So I just watched him leave, obviously still hurt, or upset, though he rejected both those adjectives along with the nuanced “mad” that I offer, as in, “You still mad?”  “I’m not mad.” Oh good.

A little context: we have a really lovely marriage. I think he’s adorable and he thinks I’m hilarious; he calls me “Beauty” despite all evidence to the contrary and I call him “Love”- please feel free to be nauseous.

 We have learned how to get along pretty well over the course of 25 years, despite a couple of important differences that must have had God chuckling as we stood at the altar.  When things are stressful, I NEED to talk. He HATES to talk when he is stressed.  Note: the past several years have been fraught with illness, death, and financial strain for us, as they have for so many I know.  So, stress. So, more opportunities to learn how to bring our different selves into some kind of harmony.

So right now he is on the stupid Michivan, we are hosting 35 people for Thanksgiving tomorrow and did I mention we are just getting over influenza? What to do, what to do.

In my younger days, I was a fan of the Big Gesture. I would have been in my car driving to his work to apologize.  I still like that approach- it has the virtue of showing the person that you have set aside your life to make sure everything is ok between you. It tends to smash the little ice walls before they get very big.  Sadly, that won’t work today: sick kids, house needs cleaning and food needs preparing.  Other options.

Get to confession and call him after. I was going to go this morning anyway and I need some grace and clarity, which may be redundant.  This has possibilities, though I hate apologizing on the phone. A really good apology involves some form of touch if possible.

I could wait till he gets home, but I hate to let things fester, so phone call it is, and I’ll smooch him later.

I need to remember what I said and try to put myself in his shoes. Right in the middle of an argument, that is so hard to do- you just want to win, or break through, or accomplish some personal goal.  Arguments are about agendas- be they emotional, practical, whatever- the idea of just setting the agenda aside during a fight is heroic. I think I have managed it fewer than ten times in the course of our 30 year relationship, and it has always been incredibly healing and lovely.  I love the shock on his face when I suddenly pull up, calm down, and say, “I see your point. I do. I am sorry I am not really listening right now. Can we start over and just talk about this?” It’s so Dr. Phil.

The problem is I can never remember to try this in the heat of the moment. I am a hothead from Hotheadsville, USA.  Like the Heatmiser from The Year Without a Santa Claus. For that matter, Thurl is the Snowmeiser.  He gets chilly fast, and I get frozen right out the minute my fahrenheit increases.  It’s a defense mechanism, part temperament, and part born of our family cultures.

No one ever, ever yelled in Thurl’s family growing up. No one ever talked about anything important, either. If by some accident, something important came up, and somebody felt hurt or angry, there followed a lockdown where everyone fell silent and watched the game.  Then, later, when everyone was ready, they just calmly and rationally ignored the whole thing for life.

In my family, we had two approaches: one parent was quicker to anger and quicker to forgive. The other was slow to anger, but Katie-bar-the-door once the anger arrived. And forgiveness was, let’s just say, longer in happening. “Dad? I’m sorry I stepped on the freshly poured driveway concrete when you expressly said not to and left my footprints in in for all time. Am I still grounded for two weeks? (cry).”  “Oh, it’s ok. I know you’re sorry. (Hug.)”  vs. Mom being patient for months until we are finally such jerks that she lets loose on us, quite deservedly. “Mom? I am sorry I didn’t clean up the playroom for three years even though you asked me to one thousand times. Am I still grounded? Mom? Mom??”

So I have lifelong experience with the Snowmeiser Way- and I respect it. It has it’s upsides- but it makes apologizing rather a strenuous affair. You’ve got to be really good at it.

Being a Hothead, I have said and done a lot of junk in the HOTM (heat of the moment) that I regretted, sometimes even while I was saying or doing it. So I have had decades of practice at apologizing, and I have gotten pretty darn good at it.  I remember reading somewhere in a story that an older gentleman was reminiscing over his apologies, and how they had made his relationships with people better, so much so that sometimes he would commit a small offense just for the pleasure of making a good apology.  So that’s probably a little mentally ill, but it has its points.

A good apology, a really sincere, warm apology from the heart, is very endearing.  First of all, it’s humble.  To do it, you really have to swallow a giant helping of ego and self-will, and that is hard, and everyone knows it. Second, it shows more concern for the other person than for self, or for carrying the point. This is genuinely sweet, and hard to resist. It’s taking the Lemon of your fight, and making the Lemonade of Love with it. What a tortured, saccharine metaphor.

Once your stomach has settled from that last paragraph, consider this: give the other person a chance to be ready to receive your apology. I am by nature a speedboat: I want to zip in, apologize warmly, and be done with it already. My husband the Ocean Liner takes longer to turn. I had to learn to respect that, and give him a little space to be angry in. If he’s really mad, he takes a nap. Afterwards he is much more amenable to a reconciliation. I used to get my little feelings all hurt because I would say something like, “You are such a big jerk, you understand nothing and I am really sorry I said those hurtful things and I don’t mean it, will you forgive me?” Okay, it probably wasn’t EXACTLY like that, but close enough where he would look at me like, I am not ready to make up yet, and I would have more stuff to be angry about. Lose, lose.

And then sometimes the other person is so egregiously and singlehandedly wrong that a good apology seems like a lie. “Sorry, but Clive is just one hundred percent wrong, and the children’s welfare is at stake. If I apologize, he takes that as confirmation that he is right, and nothing changes.” Sometimes this is true, or almost true (few of us achieve perfection in a disagreement and have nothing whatsoever to concede).

But most often, it’s not. We moms tend to get all dramatic about our kids’ emotional well-being and feel we need to defend them from their hard-hearted daddies, when often what they really NEED is a dose of tough love (please do not read “abuse”) and we are just too empathetic to see it.

Or if it’s just between us, it is rare that the other person has just acted completely unprovoked, unless they are a total creep, in which case you’ve got bigger problems.

In any event, even if the other person IS mostly wrong, there is always something to apologize for if you are interested in finding it.

Nan’s Argument Examination of Conscience:
Was my tone respectful?
Did I slip immediately into a pattern of talking that has never been helpful (“You always.. You never... the problem with your family is that…)?
Did I try, really try, to see it from his point of view?  
Did I bring up all kinds of other things because they are distantly related, and fog the issue? (“I remember back in high school, when you…”)
Did I make it about him personally rather than about the topic (“Why are you so unable to see this?”)?
Did I do something I know he hates during the argument, out of spite? (For us it’s the word “simply.” He hates that word. And I do use it, God forgive me.)
Was I emotionally manipulative (can’t think of what to say = time to cry or withdraw into a stony silence to compel instant guilt and contrition)?

So now that I am writing this, I am thinking of several things I might have done better. I won’t beat myself over the head with it- I was exhausted, he said/did some upsetting stuff too- ok, he was mostly silent, but I find that very upsetting and he knows it.

But I will think clearly and specifically about what I can honestly apologize for. (Dangle away, preposition.)

Then, I will make the actual apology. A couple of rules: no passive aggressive apologies like, “I’m sorry you got so upset.” Um, better to say nothing than that little firestarter.

Really mean it. You have to really BE sorry- this isn’t a formulaic thing: “I did x and x is wrong therefore I apologize. Beeeeep.” If you don’t feel it, even just a little, it is insincere, or just from the Brain. Nobody wants an apology from the Brain. You don’t say, “I love you with all my brain.” When someone hurts you, you don’t say they have broken your brain. You have to apologize from the heart. It takes generosity- you are giving something of yourself away. It is an act of love.

I can’t drive to Lansing today, but I can meet him at his Michivan stop tonight. With the highway under construction, this is an act of True Love. Now, off to confession. Prayers appreciated.



*Incidentally, Thurl Ravenscroft was the voice of Tony the Tiger. Why his name popped into my head I shall never know. Maybe I want Frosted Flakes...

**Thurl called (my husband, not Tony) and apologized while I was on the way to confession. Love wins!