Coach's Corner

Learning to Forgive!

What is forgiveness? Here is a short story illustrating Christ’s forgiveness towards all mankind. I find when I think of Christ’s forgiveness towards my own life I can’t but learn to forgive others when they hurt me. Read and allow Christ’s forgiveness to give you hope and let it inspire you to forgive others in your life.

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like ones in libraries that list title by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in each direction, had different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read “girls I liked.” I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.
 

And then, without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in detail my memory couldn’t match.
A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring there content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named “Friends” was next to the one marked “Friends I Have Betrayed.”
I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life that I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in twenty years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
 

When I came to a file marked “Lustful Thoughts”, I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.
An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: “No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!” In an intense frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and begun pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.
 

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.
 

But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn’t bear to watch his response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did he have to read every one?
Finally He turned and looked at me across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn’t anger me. I dropped my head, and covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn’t say a word. He just cried with me.
 

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting on one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. I thought to myself “His name shouldn’t be on these cards.” But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.
 

He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how He did it so quickly, it seemed the next instant I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, “It is finished.”
 

I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
 

Posted October 31, 2011