Years ago, after a storm in the mountains, I walked through the damp, needle-strewn soil and saw the damage that had been exacted by the lightning the night before. I saw a tree blasted apart and immediately thought of an aspect of my life.
I’d invested years of my life in a relationship.
I wasn’t perfect in it, but I was sacrificial. Not everyone you love loves you back. Not everyone you bless wants to bless you.
But as sudden as that crack of light that night, I knew it was over.
The Lord had spoken. I was relieved, I admit that.
But I was left feeling like the tree, wrenched apart. I knew it couldn’t be put back together.
We can take comfort in some of the situations that the Apostle Paul found himself. Sometimes in the life of a Christian, there is a John Mark with whom you can be reconciled (2 Timothy 4:11), and there may be an Alexander the metalworker (2 Timothy 2:14) with whom you can’t be.
I picked up a shard of the tree, and kept it for many years. It was a symbol to me of an event that changed my life. Like the Israelites who took stones from the middle of what was a raging, flood-engulfed riverbed, I looked at it often. It became a memorial to me.
However, I took no photo of that tree, nor of that shard.
That’s because I decided to throw away the splintered wood, the memorial of that pain, as I forgave.
Now, not even the memory has all those sharp edges.
Forgiveness rescued me from my hurt, and the Lord rescued me from the hurter.
A question for you: Have you ever felt like that splintered tree, and if so, how did forgiving someone help you?