shadowwonder

Forgiveness.   When I’ve contemplated doing it (not as often as I should), I’ve always thought of it as releasing my offender from my own wrath/punishment/revenge and instead trusting God’s (more just) dealings with him/her.   I’m pretty sure teaching in the church has reinforced this idea—that the reason we forgive is because we aren’t responsible for our offender’s consequences.  God, however, is. But I’ve noticed something: such a release isn’t really a release.   For it creates an opportunity (which, sadly, I’m all too inclined to take) to relish the idea of my offender’s experiencing consequences for his/her behavior.   And not just any consequences, but those coming from the powerful hand of God Himself.    “Ha!” says my (dark) heart, as I “release” my offender from my own scrawny-by-comparison attempts at righting the wrong.   But Frederica Mathews-Green offers a different definition of forgiveness.   She asserts that forgiving someone involves relinqu

It was a steamy Friday in mid-August, the end of the first week’s worth of the busy-ness that is the school year.   Still lamenting summer’s end, I already struggled with motivation.   Only 8 and ¾ more months to go.   Junior high baseball workouts had begun, and the parents gathered for a quick meeting while the boys wrapped up their practice.   Moms and dads chatted in the stands, catching up after summer break until the coach called the meeting to order. As he filled us in on what the fall season would involve, we watched the players do sprints along the warning track.    After lining up at the left foul pole, one boy took off running towards the right foul pole.   Ten seconds later, the next started his trek.   Quickly, each kids’ foot-speed became apparent.    One boy kept a pace similar to the runner in front of him; another threatened to catch his teammate.    This wasn’t just cardiovascular training. It was mental toughness.   Motivation.   Face-saving.   No