Forgiving What You Can't Forget: Discover How to Move On, Make Peace with Painful Memories, and Create a Life That’s Beautiful Again

by Lysa TerKeurst

My ability to forgive others rises and falls, instead, on this: leaning into what Jesus has already done, which allows His grace for me to flow freely through me (Ephesians 4:7).

But please never confuse redemption with reunion. Reunion, or reconciliation, requires two people who are willing to do the hard work to come back together. Redemption is just between you and God. God can redeem your life, even if damaged human relationships don’t come back together.

Freedom from unforgiveness doesn’t mean instant healing for all the emotions involved.

For example, if a wave of sadness hits me when I see a picture from our hard season, I’ll try and sort through what is true and what is not true about this picture. I’ll give myself a few moments to grieve what was lost.

We can’t change what we have experienced, but we can choose how the experiences change us.

Whenever you are inspired to write down what you’re learning, let the words flow. Be honest with what emerges. And keep checking in on the canary in your coal mine by paying attention to writing that starts blaming others or revisiting the circumstances of your pain.

The more deeply I am invested in someone, the more their choices affect me.

“Adults inform, children explain.” I will state my boundaries with compassion and clarity.

I can say no. I must not confuse the command to love with the disease to please.

Another Jewish tradition for mourning that is still very much being practiced today is “sitting shiva.”1 You sit shiva for all your first-degree family members: spouses, children, parents, and siblings. For seven days immediately following the burial of the deceased, family and friends come to the home of those grieving and sit shiva. They bring food and comfort and conversation and memories. Shiva allows space for those grieving to discuss their sorrow, hit pause on the normal rigors of life, be provided for and attended to by friends and family.

Not forgiving someone isn’t teaching the other person a lesson, nor is it protecting you in any way. It’s making the choice to stay in pain. It’s ratcheting the already too-tight belt tighter and tighter with each remembrance. Undealt-with pain and a mind at peace cannot coexist.

I’ve come to the conclusion that the goal with forgiveness isn’t perfection—it’s progress.

“If it is possible” is a clue to me that sometimes it is not possible. But then “as far as it depends on you” reminds me of what I must do to make this possible.

There are also very clear situations where reconciliation is forbidden: when people are abusive, out of control, and dangerous emotionally, physically, and spiritually.