A work-mate sent a knife my way yesterday, and I sent ten more back from the dark recesses of my heart and mind. I didn’t verbalize my anger and hurt. But I have no doubts as to who will receive the harsher sentence in a judgement against us both. Just because you keep your anger hidden beneath the bowed head doesn’t mean it hasn’t stained your soul.
The first storm of September had struck, and I had caused the worst of it.
I rushed off to find a quiet corner.
Not to escape, but to put my wrongdoing before my God. The wrong of my anger and the wrong of not feeling remorse. In the light of my new September commitment to seeking the Spirit in all I do, I had instead willfully driven myself into the muck. I had not sought the Spirit’s ready help against the wounding by my work-mate. I had gone back to the old path I wanted to leave.
In the quiet, I offered up the hurt and my sin but I thrust them roughly into the arms of unseen angels. My offering did not fall in humble lines, because it was swaddled in anger fruited by a thousand woundings by this same person. Slowly, a calm came over me, even as anger continued to bubble in little pots.
I came to later hours nourished by family~joy dimples. Rested and soothed by sweet rose~moments only love can bring, I sat down to watch the news. Mother Teresa’s weathered, lined face came before me.
The nun who took love to the darkest pits.
Suddenly, I thought of my colleague. I thought of what she had done. The pots bubbled on, lit by the fire of a hurt that would not go away.
Mother, I hate her. I cannot love her. I’m sick of trying. I cannot be you. Please help me.
The winds are in a dance again. In the warm, sun-tinged swoops and swells, I read these words ~
They enjoy the sufferings of others to forget what they lost.
In a flash, I recognise Mother Teresa’s voice. The voice of one who herself must have suffered woundings many, many more times than I, yet, remained resolute and undefeated in the resolve to love the despised and the dying.
In the incident with my colleague, she had hurt me and made no attempt to hide her joy in seeing the poison-spit hit its mark in me. She had also gathered others to join her in the gleeful laughter that followed because I was not quick enough to hide the hurt and it showed on my face.
They enjoy the sufferings of others to forget what they lost.
I know what this woman has lost. She was once a rough and gruff, yet tender soul who sought to help everyone. But she had a deadly love and longing for wealth and the escape it could offer from the grind of work. Over time, bit by bit, through one choice after another, she chose to place her hands in the devil’s in exchange for money and a life of ease.
Soon, she lost the voice of God in her.
She began to dig desperately around her, far and near, searching for what she had lost. The desperation grew in tandem with the intensity of searching for heaven in the wrong places. It is this desperation that feeds the viciousness many have had to suffer; I am by no means her only victim.
They enjoy the sufferings of others to forget what they lost.
I feel a sudden impulse to hug the woman, to tell her I love her despite what she does to me. But I don’t do it. Because that is not what I am called to do. To tell this particular woman now that I love and forgive her is to give her a dangerous power in thinking viciousness has yielded this positive, this win. While it is far easier for me to show her my love and stop the darts for a time, I will be giving her power that will take her deeper into the dark.
They enjoy the sufferings of others to forget what they lost.
I hear the unequivocalness in Mother Teresa’s reply to me. Lead this woman back to what she has lost.
Lead her back to God. Just as Mother Teresa loved the poor, this work-mate too is the poor I am willed by heaven to love. Not through hugs that come easily to me.
But through the sword of a prayer. The Divine Mercy Conversion Prayer.
O Blood and Water that gushed forth from the heart of Jesus,
as a fount of Mercy for us,
I trust in You.
writingonmyheart 
When we are hurt, we tend to strike back, verbally or literally, at those who hurt us. This is natural human and animal instinct.
But Caitlynne, imagine that person who hurt you came to you for forgiveness. Would you forgive her? Truly forgive her with all your heart and not harbour thoughts of revenge, retribution or ill-will?
For your peace of mind the answer should be an honest “Yes”. And to prove it, you should pray for her right now. Just as I am praying for you.
God bless.
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Yes, I would forgive her, Victor. But that would be because she has come forwards first 🙂 It’s always easier for me when that happens. My difficulty is when that does not happen. When I have to go the whole length to meet her.
But there is something precious I’ve learned. I used to beat myself up in various ways ‘rushing the forgiveness’. Getting ahead of God even in this. That led to more internal wounds because I eclipsed my feelings. I told myself only forgiveness mattered, not what I felt inside. And that was so wrong. It made it all worse. Now, when I know I have to forgive, and I am still angry, I do not deny my anger. I wear the path to God giving Him my anger, bit by sorry bit.
With this lady, I doubt there’ll be much of a path left when I’m done 😀
So, do hold my hand through prayer, my friend. All of us need that help.
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Thank you for an honest answer, Caitlynne.
I know from experience that there are times when the one who hurt us does not come back for forgiveness. Quite often they don’t even care for or seek forgiveness. That should not matter. We should still feel in our heart that they sought forgiveness and we forgave them.
Of course we will feel anger and bitterness at what they did to us. We wouldn’t be human if we did not feel such emotions. They are natural and part of human defence mechanism. The trick is how do we react to these emotions. When we remember again and again the hurt done to us, when we feel anger and bitterness again, that’s the time to forgive once more in our hearts. That’s the time to pray for those who hurt us once more. Through gritted teeth even. It is not easy, I well know, but we should do it all the same.
When Christ sees the scars in His hands and feet and His side; He remembers once more and forgives yet again.
If it helps, you can write to me at enquiries@holyvisions.co.uk
Praying for you. God bless.
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This was beautiful and tender, Victor. So very beautiful because of the hope and strength it gives.
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