We make all kinds of decisions in life, don’t we?

With all those New Year’s resolutions to be kept, the beginning of every year seems to herald the call to future planning and goal setting for the months and years ahead.  There’s the decision to eat healthily, to get fit and walk the dog.  Decisions to travel, to get cooking lessons, to spend more time with loved ones, to start a family, to study, to change careers.  All are worthy decisions.

Of course, some decisions are harder to make than others.  Some are more avoidable, more ignorable, simply because they are so hard to actually pursue.  Nevertheless these decisions are sometimes the most worthy.  For so many of us, the decision to move forward in life, to embrace the future and work towards the goals we have set, often requires recognising what it is that holds us back.

One of the hardest decisions of all is the decision to forgive:

• Forgiving ourselves for past mistakes and regrets that we have allowed to hold us to ransom.
• Forgiving others who have consciously or inadvertently hurt us.
• Forgiving God for the times when life has dealt the cruelest blows and He has seemed absent or inattentive.
• Asking for forgiveness and believing, no matter what it is we have or have not done, that closure is possible and that we are worthy of new beginnings.
  

Recently at Riverview I spoke about the power of forgiveness.  My message was based on one of the most well known parables in the New Testament, the Lost Son from Luke Chapter 15.  Following is one of the points from that message:


FORGIVENESS BRINGS FREEDOM

The Lost Son is a simple story.  A somewhat greedy, impetuous and impatient son one day decides that he can’t wait for his inheritance any longer.  His father divides his estate between his two sons and gives the younger son his share.  The young man takes off with it and spends the lot.

What he sets out to find is freedom and independence.  What he gets is famine, failure and frustration.  And so in a moment of clarity (as so often happens), he decides to go home, to beg forgiveness and take his place amongst the hired help, assuming (incorrectly) that he will no longer be welcome at the family table.

We read in Luke 15:17-20 (MSG) of his thought process:

"That brought him to his senses. He said, 'All those farmhands working for my father sit down to three meals a day, and here I am starving to death. I'm going back to my father. I'll say to him, Father, I've sinned against God, I've sinned before you; I don't deserve to be called your son. Take me on as a hired hand.' He got right up and went home to his father.”

I don’t know about you but when I read this Scripture I often identify with the son.  There have been many times in my life when I have had to take a good hard look at myself, realise that I have been a bit of a twit and go and ask for forgiveness (just ask my husband!).

And each time, whether I am having to say sorry to God or to another human being, whether I rehearse a speech in my head or break out into spontaneous apology, it feels the same – awkward and embarrassing but ultimately bringing relief and freedom.

I believe it actually takes an incredible amount of courage and humility for people to present themselves to another and ask for forgiveness.  I am not convinced that forgiveness is a particularly natural part of human life – the memory is a powerful mechanism, able to retain and recall and remind us of issues and experiences long after they have ended.

When we present ourselves to another, knowing we have wronged them, there is a part of us that relies and hopes on a deposit of grace to freely flow from the other person, a grace that is sometimes extra-ordinary.  We hope for the response of the father in our parable who celebrates and is overjoyed at the return of his prodigal son.

Forgiveness brings freedom in a way that other decisions simply cannot.  We go looking for freedom in all kinds of things for all kinds of reasons.  But so often, just like the prodigal son, we find it in the most unexpected of places – in the restoration of the soul and the gracious act of forgiveness.


Blessings to you,
Aly