How can I bring myself to forgive as god has? Im trying so hard to work of forgiveing other and forgiveing myself but i just cant let go of what has been done..? How do I forgive the unforgiveable?
I hope this helps. It's a story I wrote several years back.
THE WALL
I kneel before my Lord, bowing my head to the ground. He stands and walks to me. Stand He says. I look up at Him, and stand. Face to face with Jesus, fear, love, joy, and worship swirl through me, making me a little light-headed, and my gaze drops. He takes my chin and raises my face back up to Him. His look is so intense that I begin to shake a little. He moves my head this way, then that, examining me in the most minute detail. He looks deeply into my eyes, then bends close to me. I feel His beard tickle my cheek as He brings His mouth to my ear and whispers, Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. My eyes close as I make an effort to breath. He thinks I’m beautiful!! My eyes open again, and the love in His eyes makes me feel like I’m about to melt into a puddle. He smiles widely at the image.
You wanted to ask Me for something, child, He reminds me.
I nod shyly. “I want to be closer to You, Lord Jesus.”
You are as close to Me as you are allowing yourself to be.
My head tilts a little as I try to understand. “I have offered You everything, Lord. I have opened every door, asked You into every corner of my spirit.”
There is one wall still between us, daughter. His Spirit touches that wall in my spirit, and my whole being, body and soul, shudders.
“Lord,” I whisper, “I don’t know what’s behind that wall. But there is a terror there that could destroy me.”
I cannot heal a wound that you will not offer Me, child. I see what is there, and I also see that you are ready to deal with the pain that’s there. You can’t let go of what you do not know you hold. This hidden pain has held you back long enough.
Fear wells up in me, choking off any words. I glance around at the others in the room – angels and other servants of His – then back at Him. Understanding, He dismisses everyone, and we are alone. “Will You take the wall down, Lord?” I ask fearfully.
No, child. You must do it. But I will be with you, and stay with you. You will not have to face it alone.
I take a deep, shaky breath. “Show me how, Lord.”
Close your eyes. Visualize that wall. I do, and even the visualization brings me terror. But He is here with me, and I trust Him to protect me. He places a finger on the upper part of my temple. Now, bring it down. As He slides His finger down my face, the wall sinks into nothing.
The pain is excruciating. I cry out, and He gathers me into His arms, soothing me. It’s a lost memory of an abuse when I was only a child. “Why, Lord? Why did I have to remember this? Oh, God, it hurts! It hurts!” I sob.
I know it hurts, little one. But it must be dealt with. Hold onto me. Let me help you, beloved. Go ahead and cry. I’ve got you, and I’ll never let you go.
I hold onto Him for what seems like forever, until I have no more tears to cry. Now comes the anger. “Why did he hurt me like that, Lord? I loved him. He was like a father to me.” I look up at Him, angry with Him as well. “Why did You let that happen?”
He sighs sadly. That man was given free will, just as you were, beloved. He used his free will to hurt you. To stop it would have taken away his ability to choose right and wrong, and to take it away from one, I must take it from all.
I know He is right, but my anger will not be contained. I begin beating on His chest, verbalizing my hurt and rage in unintelligible groans and wordless cries. He just holds me and lets my anger run its course. Finally, exhausted, I collapse in His arms, clinging desperately to Him. His arms tighten around me, and the love in His embrace, even after my anger, comforts me. But I feel as if I have a hollow space in my heart – I am empty and numb inside.
“I’m scared, Lord. Please, help me! Don’t let me go. I’m lost! I’m so empty inside.” My whisper is frantic.
You are not lost, child. You are in My arms, and I will never, ever let go. Let My strength be yours. Let My love fill you to overflowing.
I feel His strength, His peace, flow into the empty space. When I am completely calm, He pulls away a little, looking into my eyes.
Now comes the hard part. You must use your free will to forgive him.
My eyes fly open wide, outraged. “Forgive? How can I forgive? I was a child! I didn’t do anything to deserve that abuse.”
Look, child. See someone else who was abused without cause.
He shows me a man, beaten so badly that he no longer even looks like a man. Blood runs down both legs from hideous gashes on his back. Blood cakes his beard and hair from wounds on his head, and both eyes are swollen nearly shut. His lip is bleeding from several cuts, and his nose has obviously been broken. Bruises cover his whole body to the point that it is difficult to tell even what race he is. If he is alive, there is no sign of it. I recoil in horror. “Surely he didn’t forgive so easily, Lord,” I whisper.
It was not easy, but I did forgive.
I gasp as His response tells me that He was that man. Anger again begins to well up in me. “No! How dare they? How could they. . .” His hand on my face stops my words, and my anger.
I forgave them, beloved. I love them, as I love you, and I forgave them, as I forgive you when you sin. I do not ask you to forgive for others’ sake, but for your own. The bitterness that unforgiveness causes will destroy you, and will separate you from Me.
I stare at Him, struggling to accept His command. “I never want to be separated from You, Jesus. But I don’t know if I am able to forgive.”
On your own, you cannot. But My Spirit will give you strength beyond your own ability, and you can forgive.
“I want to obey You, Lord, but I don’t know how.”
It is a process, child. Choose to forgive. When anger or sadness rises up in you, choose again to forgive. And again, and again, until the emotions are under your control. Realize that letting go of the anger does not mean you condone the abuse, only that you will not let it control you. The hurt and anger will not go away completely until you come home, but it will soften, if you let it. Do not allow the root of bitterness to take hold. He brings my face to His, kissing my forehead gently. Give your anger to me, child. I can deal with it much easier than you. Each time the anger and hurt wells up in you, give it to Me. You are My beloved. It is My place to protect what is Mine. Vengeance is Mine. Allow Me to repay.
For a split second, the rage threatens again; but as I stare into His eyes, I feel a glorious surrender, a letting go, deep in my heart. “With Your help, Lord, I will forgive.” I step back into His arms, and a peace like I’ve never known flows through me, settling deep in my spirit. The hurt is still there, but it will not destroy me. He won’t let it.
My face loses all color as I recall my fists pummeling His chest, my emotions out of control. “Please forgive my anger, Lord. I . . .” His finger on my lips halts the words.
It’s alright, little one. Your anger is understandable, and needed to be expressed. All is forgiven. Nothing could make Me stop loving you. His eyes burn into mine. Nothing! The fire in His eyes seals that truth in my heart for eternity.
Now, it is time for you to go back, child. His voice has as much regret as my heart. You will return soon, and you’ll never have to leave again.
“Before I go, Lord Jesus, may I. . .” He hears my thoughts, and smiles, nodding. I reach up, and kiss His cheek, whispering against His skin, “I love You, Lord Jesus.”
I love you too, little one.
I hear His whisper echoing in my ears as I open my eyes, back at home. Tears well up in me, and a moan rises from deep in me, struggling to get out. Once again, I cry. Once again, I become angry. But then, once again I forgive. It is a cycle, one that will repeat itself over and over again, but with each cycle, the pain lessens, and His arms around me more than fills the empty spaces within me. Eventually, I will feel the forgiveness, but for now, it is a decision – one that I make for my own sake, and for His.
so you can be liberated from your grief.
