Amy Boucher Pye

Category: The Living Cross

  • Forgiveness Fridays: The miracle of forgiveness

    Stories about forgiveness in the media draw my interest. I can’t help reading them, and finding encouragement in the ways people manage to forgive others. The stories that hit the news garner attention because they so often surprise us – how could someone forgive a murderer, for instance? Read on…

    I learned when writing The Living Cross: Exploring God’s Gift of Forgiveness and New Life that those offering forgiveness in extreme situations were often exercising a familiar muscle. They extended forgiveness in daily life over the seemingly small things we have to forgive daily – when a driver cuts us off in traffic, or when someone close to us betrays us, or when a family member puts their needs before ours. In forgiving someone who had done a great wrong to them, they were continuing to live in the manner in which they’d been accustomed. Many also cited a supernatural infusion of grace that they attributed to God.

    Below are two news stories of forgiveness for your encouragement. I pray you’ll never need to forgive on the scale that would attract this kind of attention. But we can take encouragement to forgive in the more mundane situations of life. And of course, to ask forgiveness when we do wrong – I sent out an email along those lines this very morning!

    Adam Miller was caught up in a shooting at a lawnmover plant in Kansas in February 2016. He was shot four times at close range, but amazingly, the bullets only hit soft flesh. He said, “I had an obvious hand of protection when it was going toward my chest. I don’t know how to describe it other than that.”

    When lying in his hospital bed, recovering, he thought about what had happened, and the perpetrator.

    “I can’t say that I immediately forgave him. Maybe it came a couple of days later,” he said. “There was no hatred toward him. There was sorrow, and he must have been in so much pain.

    “I just come to the conclusion that for all the things I’ve done in my life, God has forgiven me. So why can’t I forgive someone else?”

    You can read the full story here.

    Cliff and Wilma Derksen’s daughter was killed on a cold night in Winnipeg. Thirty-two years passed before the man accused of her murder would be brought to trial again – had they waited for justice to forgive, they would have lost years of their lives to waiting and perhaps the prison of bitterness.

    One night after their daughter had been missing for several months, a man came to visit them. He introduced himself, saying, “I’m the parent of a murdered child, too. I’ve come to tell you what to expect.”

    He shared with them all of the things he’d lost to his daughter’s murder – not only her but his relationships, work, and even his daughter’s memory. He told the Derksens, “It will destroy you.”

    They saw how a darkness could swallow them, taking away all that they loved and treasured. After the man left, “We kind of looked at each other and said, ‘We have to stop this,’” Cliff said. “We have to forgive.”

    They both made a decision that night to forgive, with Cliff saying, “I don’t believe the person who did this had loving parents or a circle of friends who thought the world of him or he wouldn’t have done a deed like this.” Wilma added, “I can’t say at this point I forgive the person But we have all done something dreadful in our lives or we have the urge to.”

    When people in the public heard what they said, many were angry. Some thought they didn’t care for their daughter, and others questioned what it meant to forgive.

    Cliff said, “We said we were going to forgive and we didn’t know how to talk about it, and we really didn’t know what it meant ourselves. Our big thing was just we were going to forgive whoever it was. We just were going to forgive. We didn’t know how or where or when this was going to happen, it was sort of a north star we put out there.”

    “There was an article three or four months later saying 80 per cent of Canadians didn’t agree with us and would be upset with us because forgiveness meant letting the murderer go free and condoning murder,” Wilma said 32 years later. “That wasn’t what this was about at all. It really was about escaping the aftermath of murder.”

    Read more at the extensive article here.

    Did these stories resonate with you? Could you extend forgiveness today?

  • Forgiveness Fridays: Forgiving as we are forgiven by Sharon Garlough Brown

    Forgiveness – what about those of us who see ourselves as “good”? We don’t have a gripping conversion story to share of how God saved us miraculously. Or do we? Join Sharon Garlough Brown, author of the amazing Sensible Shoes novels, to explore this question.

    “But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.” (Luke 7:47)

    Ten years ago those words leapt off the page and pierced my heart with surgical precision. I had read the text from Luke 7:38-50 many times over the years, but that day the text read me.

    Let’s remind ourselves of the scene. One day Simon the Pharisee, a religious leader with an upstanding, righteous reputation in the community, hosts a dinner party. The guests recline around a table, probably in an open courtyard, and Jesus is there at Simon’s invitation.

    While they’re eating, a woman enters the courtyard, a woman who is also well-known in the community. She’s a woman with a reputation, but not as an upstanding citizen. This woman is a “that kind of woman,” the kind of woman who doesn’t belong at respectable dinner parties hosted by respectable men.

    But this woman is determined. She’s heard that Jesus is at the party, and she’s on a mission. So she perseveres past the whispers and the sneers, past the judgmental and scathing looks, past the raised eyebrows, past the pointing and accusing fingers in order to come to Jesus.

    Peter Paul Rubens and Anthony van Dyck. A woman washes Christ’s feet in the house of Simon the Pharisee, circa 1615. Saint Petersburg, Hermitage Museum.

    And as Simon the host watches in disgust, his respectable dinner party deteriorates into a spectacle. This woman, probably a prostitute, kneels at Jesus’ feet, weeping, and shamelessly offers the tools of her trade—her perfume, her hair, her kisses—she offers them to Jesus in devotion and gratitude. And Jesus receives the offering! He does not scold her for unbinding her hair, which was forbidden for a woman to do in public. (Only loose women did such things.) He does not object to her wiping his feet with that hair. He lets her touch him, kiss him, and express the sort of intimacy that no doubt had some guests around the table flushing with embarrassment or anger. What she does is scandalous.

    Simon is deeply offended. In Simon’s mind, the whole incident calls into question Jesus’ reputation, too. “If this man really were a prophet,” Simon says to himself, “he would know who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him, that she is a sinner.”

    And that’s when Jesus speaks. “Simon,” he says. “I have something to say to you.”

    Jesus, a master storyteller, crafts a personal parable for Simon. Seeing right into Simon’s proud, judgmental, condemning, shriveled heart, Jesus offers a simple story about two debtors. One debtor owes an extravagant amount of money, the other owes a more reasonable sum. But neither one of the debtors is able to pay the debt. So the creditor, being a generous man, forgives both of them. Neither one has to pay what they owe.

    Jesus asks Simon, which debtor do you think will be more grateful? Which one will love the creditor more?

    With a shrug in his voice, Simon says, “I suppose the one who had the greater debt.”

    “You’re right,” Jesus says. And then he goes on to point out all of the ways Simon has failed to show any common courtesy to a house guest and contrasts that with all of the ways the unnamed woman has lavished her love and devotion upon him. Jesus sums it all up this way: the one who has been forgiven much, loves much. It’s not that Simon doesn’t need to be forgiven as much as the woman. It’s that Simon doesn’t recognize the depth of his need.

    That’s when the Spirit opened my eyes and broke my heart that day. What I saw was that I had more in common with Simon than with the woman. And I didn’t want to be like Simon. I wanted to be like the grateful, sinful woman. In fact, I had spent years envying conversion stories of so-called “sinners.”

    Photo: Suzanne Schroeter, flickr

    I had a pretty boring testimony, I thought. I’d been the “good girl” who had grown up in church, who never felt the rescue from sin was that big a deal because I didn’t think I had strayed very far to begin with. Sure, I knew I couldn’t pay the debt of my sin, but I still didn’t see my debt as very large, especially when compared to some other people’s debts.

    So I prayed, asking God to enlarge my heart with love and gratitude for Jesus. I just didn’t realize that the process of enlargement would include an ongoing revelation of the depths of my sin: my self-centeredness, self-righteousness, self-absorption, self-sufficiency, self-protection, my critical spirit, my desire for control (all were symptoms of pride, with self as center).

    I had no idea the process of enlarging my heart with love and gratitude for Jesus would include the ongoing revelation of all the ways I failed to love God with all of my heart, soul, mind, and strength. All the ways I failed to love others with his love.

    I had no idea the process of enlarging my heart with love and gratitude for Jesus would include a daily revelation of my sinful action, my inaction, and my impure motives even when the outward appearance of love looked pretty good to others. The Holy Spirit’s surgical work was painful and penetrating.

    Essentially, I was converted from seeing myself as a fairly decent person into seeing myself as a prostitute who had given herself over to false gods. I’d spent a lifetime worshiping at the altars of false gods—culturally acceptable and encouraged altars like pursuing reputation, honor, success, comfort, and achievement as ways to gain meaning, security, and significance in life.

    When Pharisees begin to see themselves as sinners, it is a gift. It’s a gift to see the enormity of a debt which absolutely cannot be paid apart from the lavish and extravagant grace of God.

    It’s a gift to see the depths of our sin, because then we see more clearly the breathtaking beauty and love of our Savior who poured out his life in a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God for us.

    It’s easy to see and name the outward manifestations of sin. It’s easy to identify behavior that is not Christ-like. But we need the Spirit’s help to perceive the inner disposition of sin. We need God’s penetrating light to shine in the dark places, to reveal the heart issues, the deeply rooted patterns of resisting conformity to Christ, like anger, envy, pride, lust, greed, craving honor and recognition, and so much more.

    And when we see it, when we see that sin is not behavior that can be modified but cancer that needs a radical remedy, by the grace of God, we might find ourselves falling at the feet of Jesus, weeping with gratitude, filled with love. Because that debt has been paid in full through the cross of Jesus Christ. Go in peace, Jesus says to sinners like me. Go in peace. Your sins have been forgiven. Your debt has been paid in full.

    The one who has been forgiven much, loves much.

    The ones who are aware of their need for forgiveness, their poverty of spirit, are the ones who will be enlarged to love God and to be kind and tenderhearted toward others, forgiving as we’ve been forgiven, with extravagant love, generosity, and compassion.

    Thanks be to God.

    Sharon Garlough Brown is an author, retreat speaker, and spiritual director. A graduate of Princeton Theological Seminary, Sharon has served on the pastoral staff of congregations in Scotland, Oklahoma, England, and most recently in West Michigan, where she co-pastored Redeemer Covenant Church with her husband, Jack, for many years. Her spiritual formation novels, Sensible Shoes, Two Steps Forward, and Barefoot, follow the journey of characters who are learning to rest in the love of God. Her fourth novel in the Sensible Shoes series, An Extra Mile, will be released by InterVarsity Press in February, 2018.

  • Forgiveness Fridays: When forgiveness might be easy to overlook by Amy Young

    What a thought-provoking post from Amy Young. When is a wrong not a wrong? What cultural trappings inform us as we answer that question? Just when do we need to forgive?

    China could be called the “Knock-Off Capital” of the world. Knock-offs aren’t just for handbags, though in the classroom they go by another name: plagiarism. What I might call cheating is often classified as helping or good writing. I used to see this issue in black and white, saying that either helping or good writing (aka copying) were clearly cheating. But the longer I was in China, the more I understood the line wasn’t as clear as I thought.

    Amy in China, next to vats of vinegar!

    In a society where relationships are incredibly important, if your friend asks for help and you refuse them, you have no idea what future door you have closed. Maybe that friend’s father’s sister’s husband could have helped you move your mom to Beijing. Maybe not. But without helping, that person is not indebted to you.

    In terms of copying being good writing, this used to be where I, as an American, would roll my eyes and say, “Whatever! A good writer is one who can use their own words.” But in China, a good writer is one who has read extensively and is able to incorporate others’ words into their own writing. Chinese writing is laden with proverbs and set phrases. Everyone knows that a good writer uses others’ words; it is not considered cheating, but a sign of being educated.

    Because I’ve grown in my understanding of both reasons, I am able to be a better teacher and explain that when writing in Chinese, using other people’s words is exactly what the students should do. But when writing in English, they need to operate under different cultural norms. My students are consistently surprised when I can tell they haven’t written something themselves and want to know how I know. Several years ago I had two students hand in the exact same paper on the topic of forgiveness. I couldn’t tell who had copied whom so I gave them both a zero.

    To make the point that copying wasn’t going to get by me and that I do read and remember what students write, I had a student stand at the front of the class and begin to read from one of the homework papers. As she was reading, I joined in reading the other paper. Of course, the class noticed they were . . . exactly the same. Point made. Since it was the first time plagiarism had occurred, I told the class the two students could rewrite their papers, but they had now all been warned and any future copying would receive a zero. The last laugh was on me because neither student copied off of the other; instead they both chose the same paper from the Internet to copy! Ha.

    Zeng Fei, who did an undergraduate degree in Russian, wrote the following letter to me in response.

    When I rewrite the article entitled “Forgiveness,” I can’t calm my heart. Because I clear-headed realized that my dishonest behavior has hurt not only my content but also your trust in every student. I’m very sorry for what I have done. Though I know my request for begging your forgiveness is maybe excessive, I want to ask, ”Can you forgive me?” Your answer for me is very important because it means that whether or not I can recover my self-confidence in my English studying.

    In the Oxford Advanced Learners Dictionary of English, the meaning of the word ”forgive” is “no longer has the wish to punish somebody for an offense, a sin; pardon or show mercy to somebody; no longer have hard feelings towards somebody.” Though it looks illogical, I want to explain the benefit of ”forgiveness” by this unpleasant accident as follows. Firstly, your forgiveness can help one student recover his confidence in life and future. It will raise your significance of teaching profession. As the Chinese parlance puts it “A teacher is an engineer of the human soul.” I hope that you can become a leader in my way of studying English. Secondly, unpleasant feeling and disappointment resulted from this accident maybe would harm your beautiful looks. So if you can’t forgive me I would feel uneasy.

    In this article, as a homework and letter of apology, I hope that you can forgive me. Dear teacher, give me a chance to correct my mistakes, okay? I swear I’ll never make same mistakes. Please believe me again! Yours Zeng Fei.

    Some people make it easy to forgive them, don’t they? I forgave him. By making it easy, I can miss that forgiveness is just as powerful whether is it so-called easy or hard. The guest posts in this series have tackled some deep wounds and shown the balm of forgiveness. For their words and the Lord’s forgiveness I am grateful. It’s been years since I taught Zeng Fei, I don’t know what became of him after he left my classroom. But I do know this, forgiveness changes people. How do I know this? I am one who is forgiven on the big, but equally important, the small.

    Where has a “small” act of forgiveness made a big difference in your life?

    Amy Young is an avid Denver Broncos fan and knows what it’s like to learn lessons of forgiveness on foreign soil. You can read more of her work at The Messy Middle and receive a 14 tips to live well in a messy world. She is the author of Looming Transitions and Love, Amy: An Accidental Memoir Told in Newsletters from China.

  • Forgiveness Fridays: Is it too late to forgive someone who has died?

    I feel like a guardian of treasure, with the privilege of sharing today’s contribution. It’s raw and moving, as you’ll see. Because of the sensitive nature of the topic, the author will remain anonymous. It’s a stark reminder, especially in the light of the London fire, that we only have today. Please, if you need to, forgive.

    A few days ago, my aunt – my mum’s twin – collapsed in the street and died. Apparently she was laughing one moment and dead the next. Her son tried desperately to revive her with CPR, but he and the medics couldn’t bring her back. My brother rang me with the awful news and I fell to my knees, floored with shock, literally. We both sobbed.

    I still can’t believe I’ll never see my aunt – who was only in her sixties – again. I still can’t accept it. Hard because even now I am incapable of thinking about and talking about her in the past tense — she is so in-tense. How can one say, “was”? That’s not her. I have so many memories of her laughing. She laughed at everything and we all laughed with her. So many memories…

    However there’s a cloud hanging over our grief, because my aunt died in the midst of a family feud and my mum hadn’t fully forgiven her. My aunt’s death is a salient message to all of us about the importance of forgiving our loved ones when they’re alive, because you never know when they’ll be gone.

    The feud started off as an argument and quickly turned toxic, embroiling the entire family. It became a fall-out where people took sides, which threatened to split our family up. Apparently, the argument was over a very small amount of money in my grandmother’s will. To this day I’m still not entirely sure of the facts. All I know is that in my opinion it appeared nonsensical. None of my cousins wanted to take sides – but we were quickly dragged into it by the three sisters. I tried to defuse the situation by mediation, but that didn’t work; chiefly because nobody would listen. It’s funny when people argue; ‘facts’ are quickly forgotten while ‘feelings’ are always remembered.

    So for the past few years my mother cut off her relationship with her sisters. To say the least, it was heart-breaking. It impacted the relationship with my aunts, cousins and my mum. I became angry at my elders for dragging us into it, as we didn’t want to get involved. It truly felt like a role reversal: we felt like the parents and they were the children.

    By Genco Gulan (Own work), Creative Commons

    Her twin wanted to make amends, but my mother wouldn’t forgive her. My mum kept bringing up past hurts; she’d unearth every slight and perceived act of betrayal in an effort to condone her stance of unforgiveness. What’s so galling is that before this they were so close. They were twins; confidants. They’d finish each other’s sentences, regale stories and laugh until they hurt with exertion.

    So how does a relationship between two people become so sour, so quickly? One of Satan’s favourite tools to cause discord in families is to embed the root of bitterness in us. It happens easily: one person does wrong to another without realising it and then the person who feels wronged holds a grudge. Pretty soon everyone is so busy being bitter towards each other that they forget to love each other.

    So for the last four years my mum hardly spoke to my aunt, even though they lived in the same town. I prayed for reconciliation in the family. I tried to reason with my mum; I even bought her a book called Forgiveness: God’s Master Key by Peter Horrobin, founder and international director of Ellel Ministries. But she was immovable. She refused to forgive fully and refused efforts by my aunt to reconcile. And now my aunt is dead.

    I’ve learned that if you don’t choose forgiveness, you choose bitterness. Bitterness from unforgiveness turns inwards and in my opinion can cause depression and other physical ailments. I’ve seen my own mother’s bitterness nearly kill her. I said to my mum, “The Bible says if we don’t forgive people, we get turned over to the torturers” – but she still didn’t listen. When I said, “Jesus says bless those who curse you”, she asked, “Why would I want to bless someone who curses me?” Good question. The reality is because of the fallen nature of our own hearts we want to get revenge on people who have hurt us; when we choose to be in revenge and be bitter, we’re actually locking ourselves into what we want the other person to feel. So we’re drinking the poison we want the other person to feel. Peter Horrobin describes this as a ‘Divine Law’ – what we want for other people comes back to us and is the judgement upon us.

    When my aunt died, my mum raced to the hospital, wailing in sorrow and grief at her sister’s bedside. She started to shake the lifeless body, begging her to “wake up”. Clearly, she truly cared for and loved her sister. There’s no doubt about that. But had she forgiven her when she was alive, she would have had wonderful memories up until her untimely death. There would be no regrets, no recriminations and no guilt.

    Forgiveness is the most powerful prayer on earth. It’s torture to have hateful thoughts toward another person rolling around inside your head. But it’s never too late to forgive. We can still forgive someone who has died knowing that God sees our hearts and knows our thoughts. It delights the Father’s heart when as His children, we let go of our desire to see the offender get punished for the wrong they did to us.

    I believe the lesson that needs to be learned from this is: keep short accounts and forgive right away so as to allow no room for regrets. Forgiveness is not a choice. It’s a command. In the Bible, we have no guarantee of tomorrow. To forgive the living or the dead, if we are waiting for the right time, then it is now. If we are waiting for the perfect day, it is today.

    Moreover, it is unhealthy to carry all that pain day after day, year after year, when we could have laid it to rest soon after we got hurt. Have you been offended? Then forgive immediately. Forgiveness is an act of grace and mercy. And God forgives us our sins as we forgive those who have sinned against us.

    Dear Lord, I thank You for the power of forgiveness, and I choose to forgive everyone who has hurt me. I lift up [name of the person you want to forgive]. Lord I’m sorry for keeping them in bondage. Help me set [name anyone who has offended you] free and release them to You [Romans 12:19]. I forgive them for [tell Him what you want to forgive them for]. Help me bless those who have hurt me [Romans 12:14]. Help me walk in righteousness, peace, and joy, demonstrating Your life here on earth. I choose to be kind and compassionate, forgiving others, just as You forgave me [Ephesians 4:32]. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

  • Forgiveness Fridays: The miracle to forgive even a murderer

    When writing The Living Cross, I was moved by the extraordinary stories of people who were able to forgive those who murdered someone close to them. After reading several of these accounts, I attributed this special grace to not only God’s working in their lives, but the way their character had been formed over years of forgiving the everyday slights and faults. As we ponder the horrible atrocities that seem to come thick and fast in our world –  such as the killing of many young people at the concert in Manchester – we can find encouragement and hope in the stories of forgiveness.

    The family of Robert Godwin Sr. exhibited God’s love and forgiveness to the murderer of their dad. (In a shocking move, the man who shot Mr. Godwin posted the murder on Facebook.) Two of Mr. Godwin’s daughters, Debbie Godwin and Tonya Godwin Baines, were interviewed on CNN by Anderson Cooper before the murderer was located by the police. They shared how their father was a peaceable man; “a loving, kind man who loved his family and who was very giving – he’d give the shirt off of his back.” He was the father of five daughters.

    Cooper asked her about her father’s killer. “If this person is out there listening, what do you want them to know? Obviously, you want them to turn themselves in, but what do you want to say to them?”

    “I would say turn yourself in, that would be number one,” Debbie Godwin said. “I mean because although I do believe in forgiveness, I do believe in the law… when you break the law, there’s a penalty for breaking the law. And this man broke the law by taking my father’s life.

    “And so although I forgive him, there is still a penalty that he must pay for what he did to my dad. And so I would want him to turn himself in.”

    In the interview we see some of the strength and depth of her character, for she said, “And you know what, I believe that God would give me the grace to even embrace this man. And hug him.

    “…It’s just the way my heart is; it’s the right thing to do. And so, I just would want him to know that even in his worst state, he’s loved … by God, that God loves him, even in the bad stuff that he did to my dad. That he’s still loved. And that he has some worth … in him. And as long as there’s life in him, there is hope for him too.”

    Tonya Godwin Baines added, “The thing that I would take away the most from my father is he taught us about God. How to fear God. How to love God. And how to forgive. Each one of us forgives the killer. The murderer.”

    “You do?” Cooper asked.

    Debbie said, “We absolutely do. I honestly can say right now that I hold no animosity in my heart against this man. Because I know that he’s a sick individual…

    “If I didn’t know Him as my God and my savior, I could not forgive that man. And I feel no animosity against him at all. Actually, I feel sadness for him.”

    Tonya added, “We’ve lost our dad, but this mother lost her son…”

    Cooper commented that it was incredible that they could think of others even in their time of grief.

    “It’s just what our parents taught,” she responded. “It’s not just that they taught us, they did it. They lived it.

    “My dad would be really proud of us, and … he would say, ‘Tonya, forgive him, because they know not what they do.’”

  • Forgiveness Fridays: When nations repent by Sheila Johnson

    What happens when nations repent? How does God honor the prayers of his people seeking forgiveness for those atrocities committed by governments? I don’t claim to know the answer to that mystery, but I also don’t want to discount how he might hear our cries. What do you think?

    Although I was born in the UK, my mother was a New Zealander, so I feel a certain attachment to the land and my many relations. To date I have visited there three times. Therefore, at a recent Lydia prayer conference, my ears pricked up when the speaker, a David Tidy of Prayer Warriors International, began talking about his recent visits to New Zealand and the need for the British to repent over their actions towards the indigenous people, the Maoris.

    When Captain James Cook arrived in the islands in 1770, a spirit of division, colonialism, legalism and land-grabbing entered the islands. Indeed, the New Zealand Company, which was in charge of encouraging the British settlers to emigrate, took land, often forcibly from the indigenous Maori population. This resulted in bitter land wars, violence and death, with Freemasonary being a very strong influence behind the British Colonialism.

    Early on in their three years of visits between 2012–15, David Tidy and the British team visited Waitangi where the treaty establishing British rule was signed in 1840. Here they instigated a new spiritual declaration, which was signed by local Maori believers on the backs of both the British and Maoris at the same spot. Repentance was declared for bringing in immorality, alcohol, broken promises and war, and forgiveness was declared. The vision of a ‘land octopus’ was seen by a number of intercessors, its head based in Westminster and its tentacles spreading out of the Bay of Islands in the north of the north island right over the whole of the two New Zealand islands. This repentance went into the very parliament building of the Beehive in Wellington where a meeting took place in the Maori room of the Beehive and the team knelt before two Maori MPs.

    The Beehive
    Detail of wall carvings from Maori Committee meeting room

    Then the octopus of Landlordism and Pride which the Maoris had seen sitting over the parliament building and thrashing its tentacles was prayed against as the team confessed the iniquity of colonialism and Westminster legalism over the Maori people. The team prayed for the severing of the head of this destructive image. In its place, an image of a jug pouring milk, representing a healing balm, was seen as a vision poured over the entire map of New Zealand.

    Tears flowed as the rawness and genuineness of the repentance was accepted by the Maori people and a new spirit was established allowing liberty and creating an environment where the Holy Spirit would be free to let people make their own choices whether or not to follow Jesus.

    This has been followed up by the New Zealand government who have issued a public apology for their unlawful actions allowed during the nineteenth-century land wars, followed by a final land settlement agreement between the various tribes and the Crown.

    Tarureka Estate (now a popular wedding venue)

    All this national history and repentance means a lot to me, not just because of my family background but also because I am currently writing a book based on my Scottish ancestors who went out to New Zealand in the nineteenth century. Interestingly enough, these were my Father’s ancestors and not my Mother’s. Yes, he too had connections with New Zealand, although in the farming community. My book is about a James Douglas who goes out to New Zealand on the encouragement of the New Zealand Company because, like many, he is told of all this cheap available land for farming and so he eventually sets up a dairy farm there. Now, I have discovered that it wasn’t cheap, available land at all but stolen land, land often flowing with bitterness and blood. I’m not sure that I can use all this information in my book, Tarureka, but it certainly puts a different complexion on the story and helps the twenty-first-century reader to see the character’s experiences in the new land in a slightly different light.

    Sheila Johnson, a UK-based writer, has over ten years’ experience as a successful freelance journalist. She writes fiction under the name of Sheila Donald, and in 2016, self-published a Christian romance based around an Alpha Course, called Alpha Male. Tarureka is her second book fictionalising the story of her Scottish ancestors’ life in New Zealand in the nineteenth century.

    When not writing, Sheila enjoys singing, history, films, the theatre, cooking and Formula One racing.

  • Forgiveness Fridays: Forgiving Hitler? by Veronica Zundel

    When is it our place to forgive? Are we being presumptuous when we forgive someone who hasn’t hurt us directly, but who hurt someone close to us? Veronica Zundel poses some important questions to ponder. Do we have the right to forgive?

    Don’t laugh, but I find it much easier to forgive people once they’re dead. Yes, I know they can no longer apologize, but they key thing is, neither can they repeat the behaviour that caused me such hurt. The thing is, I find it hard to forgive someone who I know perfectly well is going to do it again, and again, because that’s what they do. They are a person who carps, or undermines, or pushes boundaries continually. And deep down, I feel they ought to be punished. Or at least to be told the truth of what they’re doing – only being a coward, I’m not going to be the one who tells them. Besides, my feelings of being hard done by seem so unconvincing once I put them into words. Is that really worth making such a fuss about?

    And another thing: how do I forgive someone who has not offended me directly, but has hurt someone close to me? Is it my place to forgive Hitler, or his subordinates, for what they did to my close family – forcing my parents to flee their home, and then killing my grandmother, great-aunt and great-uncle in a concentration camp? Clearly, it has affected my own history and my own emotions, but isn’t it for those who suffered to forgive? Or on a lesser level, can I forgive the ‘demon headmaster’ at my son’s school (who was also known as ‘Hitler’ to the pupils) for what he did to children with special needs? After all, it wasn’t done to me, and my son got off relatively lightly. The same applies to successive governments whose policies had and have horrendous effects on the poor and vulnerable – is it my place to forgive, when I wasn’t one of those affected?

    Most significantly right now, can I forgive my beloved church, the mainstay of my life for 24 years, for closing down? Or its parent body for closing five years earlier, which led directly to the dwindling of the church? The fact is, I’m just not very good at forgiving – in fact I’m much better at finding excuses why I shouldn’t. I’ve always had a keen sense of justice, and forgiving just doesn’t seem fair.

    Members of my church eating together.

    I know that God’s forgiveness of me is supposed to be the basis for my forgiving others. But I became a Christian at 16, before I’d had the chance to do much dramatic sinning, so sometimes I find it hard to see myself as ever having been a great sinner. Others who can see me more clearly may disagree… The saving grace is, the older I get, the more I see my own faults; and the more I realize that God, in fact, forgives me umpteen failures and deliberate choices day by day.

    Ultimately, I know my difficulty with forgiveness causes more harm to me than to the people against whom I bear a grudge – who probably don’t even know the effect they had on me. And my inability to forgive easily makes me more aware how much I rely on the Spirit of God to help me – which is why a couple of years ago my ‘prayer for the year’ was that God would teach me how to forgive. All learning is a process, so maybe I can start with those who’ve left us, and gradually progress to forgiving those who are still alive – even if I know they are almost certain to do it again. One day I might even manage seventy times seven….

    Veronica Zundel is a freelance writer for the Christian market, currently studying for an MA in Writing Poetry, and undergoing cancer treatment. She lives in North London with her husband, adult son and a large, fluffy cat inclined to sudden biting.

  • Forgiveness Fridays: When there doesn’t seem much to forgive by Philippa Linton

    Forgiveness is key, but what about when we don’t feel like we have much we need forgiving? I love Philippa’s exploration of this topic, and when I lead retreats, I emphasize that this may be the case for some of the participants. We have the freedom not to go digging!

    Have you ever been on a retreat where the participants are asked to make a list of people they need to forgive and then destroy that list as a symbolic act of forgiveness and relinquishment?

    The retreatants choose a quiet place within the venue – the chapel, the art room, the garden, the lake – in order to reflect and write. They are given plenty of time in which to do it – 45 minutes, an hour. And people write reams. They write pages. Long lists of people to forgive: abusive parents or partners, adulterous spouses, insensitive doctors, vicious bullies, family feuds, appalling treatment from churches – gut-wrenching stuff, devastating wounds which are anything but easy to forgive. I’ve been to workshops led by sexual abuse survivors who talk about how it’s possible to forgive the perpetrator (in addition to seeking justice, because a serious crime has been committed) and I marvel at these people who show such courage and grace.

    I’ve taken part in exercises like this and I find it hard. For an unexpected reason though: not because my list of people to forgive is long, but because it’s so short. Usually only about three people come to mind. I can never quite believe it’s so few. Have I sailed through life so serenely that I only need to forgive three people? Seriously? Am I in denial?

    Here they are:

    1.The snappy cookery teacher who, astonished by my eleven-year-old incompetence, shouted at me and humiliated me in front of the entire class. Forty-three years later, the sting has gone out of that ancient memory. Just about.

    2. The good friend who once told me some ‘home truths’ which missed the mark. I had often valued her wise counsel and support, but on this occasion I found her words harsh and ill-judged – to be fair, this was the only time in our friendship this happened, but the people we love the most can hurt us the most, and I was deeply stung by her words. (It wasn’t so much what she said as the way she said it …) I composed a cold, cutting reply in my head. I was even tempted to send a curt e-mail terminating the friendship (I’m very glad I didn’t!) In the end I avoided the issue, which was both cowardly and unfruitful, because I then brooded over it for years. It would have been better to be honest with my friend and confessed to her that she’d hurt me, yet without falling into the trap of being bitter, accusing and unforgiving. I have now forgiven her (thanks largely to a sweet gesture on her part) and the friendship is restored and flourishes – I would not be without this friend in my life. But the incident showed me that I am more than capable of holding one heck of a grudge.

    3. My birth father. This is my weirdest example, because I never met my birth father or knew him. I can barely even remember his name. He has less substance in my life than a ghost, yet his existence casts a shadow. He was 26 when he dated my birth mother and when she got pregnant (with me), he abandoned both of us in the fifth month of the pregnancy, leaving my unmarried teenage mum to face the music alone. God made up the deficit by giving me a wonderful adoptive father who was everything a father should be – Dad was kind and funny, and hugely affirming of his daughters. But the fear of abandonment – the unconscious expectation that every man I am interested in will not return that interest – has cast a long shadow over my life. I realise I do have to forgive the man who was, to be blunt, no more than a sperm donor: it’s tempting to regard that primal abandonment by him as an excuse for avoiding intimacy.

    I’ve had a reasonably happy and secure life, yet not having that much to forgive has not made me a person who forgives that easily. Rejection by a parent is weighty stuff, to be sure, but I am an easy-going soul (pretty much) and can even shrug off some things that others struggle with. But while the things that have hurt me deeply may have been few and far between, I have found it mighty hard to let go of them. I can chew over them, imagine all the things I might say to the person now, treating them with cool contempt or sarcasm.
    So, no, I don’t find forgiveness easy. (Who does?!) Also, I have also messed up badly at certain points of my life and have needed other people to forgive me. I would be devastated if any friend held me to ransom over the stupid, thoughtless things I’ve said and done in my life … so I cannot hold anyone to ransom either.

    As a young girl, I was often very passive and allowed myself to be dominated or manipulated. I have sometimes over-compensated for that earlier passivity by becoming overly aggressive in reaction to perceived manipulation. But that’s not the answer either. I have to tell myself: “If someone hurts you, and you know you need to confront them about it, don’t do so out of vengefulness. You can be assertive, in facing the issue head on, but don’t be unloving and unkind. Forgive them, as Christ forgives you.”

    Forgiveness is a process, as Jesus tells Peter in Matthew 18: 21-22. ‘“Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?” Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy times seven.”’ His phrase “seventy times seven”, repeating Hebrew’s perfect number ad infinitum, illustrates his point: keep on forgiving if you have to, because it doesn’t come naturally.

    So next time I’m asked if I want to make a list of people I need to forgive … I will be thankful that my list isn’t large, and thankful for the grace of God that transforms us and enables us to keep forgiving.

    Philippa Linton’s day job is working for the education & learning department at the United Reformed Church in London. She is also a Reader (lay minister) in the Church of England. She likes J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, early 20th century feminism, and cats.

  • Forgiveness Fridays: The miracle of forgiveness by Jen Baker

    I keep being blown away by the stories in this forgiveness series. Today’s is miraculous – but Jen has done plenty of everyday forgiving too, as she outlines. I’m guessing that the timing for this blog might be special for someone today…

    I forgave by faith.

    Yet what happened next astounded even me….

    ***

    I believe the year was 1994 and I was 25 years old. Without going into unnecessary details, the back story was that a few years prior I had begun having flashbacks of being molested by a neighbour when I was a child. Afterwards he knelt next to my bed and quietly said in my ear, ‘If you tell anyone what happened I will kill you. I will follow you and I will kill you.’

    I believed him.

    So I kept quiet.

    Until that day, when the flashbacks opened up a door in my memory I didn’t even know existed.

    I could not keep silent any longer.

    Confused, scared (petrified) and ashamed, I began the journey of healing. I had a wonderful counsellor who journeyed with me each step of the way. But one day what I had been dreading happened and she broached the subject of forgiveness.

    I froze.

    I was a pastor; I knew it was the right thing to do, the biblical thing to do, but how could I forgive him? I was SIX when it happened. The anger I felt toward him bordered on rage and the disgust was palpable.

    But one drive home changed everything.

    Living about 45 minutes from the counsellor’s office gave me time to process our sessions before entering the ‘real world’ again. On one of these return journeys I was suddenly overcome by the thought that this man was not saved and was heading toward an eternity without God. I cannot describe what happened next except that I was overwhelmed with an urge to pray for his salvation, to the point of crying and pleading with heartfelt tears for God to save him and set him free.

    This cry from my heart came by the grace of God; it had nothing to do with me working up any forgiveness, only the obedience to follow the leading from God to pray. I suddenly felt ‘released’ from the burden and, from memory, that was the last time I prayed like that for him.

    For space I won’t go into further details, except to say after that day I began working through my anger and came to a place of complete forgiveness, actually feeling pity in place of rage.

    I never felt the urge to confront him during counselling but just over two years from that first moment when I chose forgiveness and prayer over bitterness and anger, I sensed Holy Spirit saying it was time.

    Due to circumstances out of my control, the moment came via a telephone call. I read him a letter I had written and at the end I explained how I had forgiven him because of the forgiveness I had received through Jesus Christ.

    After I finished speaking there was only deafening silence.

    Expecting the next sound to be the click of a line going dead, I wasn’t prepared for what actually happened…

    He very quietly squeaked out: “I’m so sorry. I am … so …. sorry.”

    Now I was the one rendered silent.

    He then uttered words which changed me forever.

    He explained that two years prior to this he was passing a church and had the sudden urge to drive in the driveway and speak to the pastor, asking him how to get right with God.

    He surrendered his life to Christ that day.

    He was a believer. He was … my brother in Christ.

    I’ll never be able to prove that the overwhelming urge I felt to pray for him and his salvation two years before was the same moment that he pulled in to the church car park, but to this day I believe it was.

    And twenty years later, the fact that we will share eternity together still brings tears of joy to my eyes.

    ***

    I am aware that not all stories end this way; in fact, very few of them have an ending like mine.

    But the truth is that I wasn’t freed when he apologised; I was freed when I forgave.

    I wasn’t freed when he apologised; I was freed when I forgave.

    And I could only have forgiven him completely by God’s redeeming grace. Grace which is freely available to all of us whenever we ask for it.

    ***

    Your story may be different.

    Since that time I have had to forgive some deeply painful choices made by others, and have needed forgiveness for my own wrong choices, and sadly not all have ended as ‘textbook’ as that one.

    2 Corinthians 12:9 says in part “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in my weakness.” Paul goes on to say he will boast in his weakness so that Christ’s power may rest on him.

    You see, the focus isn’t so much on our weakness as it is on Christ’s power and sufficient grace.

    In our inability, He is able. For our weakness, He gives strength.

    The key called grace is what opens the door to forgiveness.

    And it is through that door our tears are wiped dry and our freedom stands waiting.

    Even if it’s 25 years later.

    Jen Baker is a speaker, author and leader who loves seeing the Holy Spirit and the Word change atmospheres, creating personal and corporate impact. Most often described as ‘inspiring,’ she previously sold all in America to follow the call of God to England where she’s been a pastor, director and consultant working with the local church and several anti-trafficking charities. She has a heart for the nations … but a home in London.

    More information can be found at www.jenbaker.co.uk, including information on her books, Unlimited and Untangled. You can read her contribution to the “There’s No Place Like Home” series here.

  • Forgiveness Fridays: “The one person I don’t forgive” by Penelope Swithinbank

    We say we forgive. We ask God to help us forgive. We think we’d done it – phew, we’ve forgiven. But why the niggle? Why, actually, the unforgiveness that rears its ugly head? What are we holding onto?

    Oh, how I love this post from Penelope Swithinbank. Please, don’t miss it.

    I wish I could tell you that I have learnt how to forgive. That over these past few years there have been lessons learnt from each of the hard places. I thought I had forgiven – the Christians in the church who sent the vitriolic hate mail; the woman driver of an out-of-control car that, as I watched, ran over my mother and ended her life; the man who bullied my husband so much that it made him ill; the Conservation officer who even now is causing us so much stress and headache with our house.

    And all that is only the tip of the iceberg. It’s been a long tough ride for several years.

    I know I need to forgive. To forgive and go on forgiving. Isn’t that what Jesus said we were to do?

    A lack of forgiveness can be one of the main blockages in our lives – holding grudges, not letting go of our rights, allowing distances to grow between us and those who have offended us. It happens in churches, it happens in relationships, it happens in marriages. And it causes a distance not just between the individuals concerned but between us and God. Because if we do not forgive others, the Father does not forgive us. Matthew 6:14–15 says very clearly, “If you forgive those who sin against you, your heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you refuse to forgive others, your Father will not forgive your sins.” (NLT)

    But I have forgiven them, God, I argue with Him as I walk across the field, dodging the puddles and stomping through the mud. I do forgive!

    I saw that driver across the courtroom and I forgave her – she hadn’t planned to go out and run over someone that day, and her life is in ruins – so I asked the judge to grant her mercy. And the local planning officer – I sat in that meeting and prayed, prayed, prayed for blessings on her even though she seems so unreasonable.

    Isn’t all that proof of my forgiveness, Lord? So why are you allowing all this mess and hurt and pain in my life right now? Why are my prayers not being answered? After all we’ve done for You, God – nearly 40 years in Christian ministry with all its ups and downs and joys and sorrows; following your calling on our lives, giving up so much for the privilege and blessing of full-time Christian service; how could you let all this happen to us now?

    It rains and the sun comes out and there is a rainbow in front of me as I’m nearing home. It pierces me, the realization that it’s not all those people and situations that I have to forgive again.

    Yes, there is still unforgiveness in me. But it’s GOD I can’t forgive.

    I’m blaming Him for allowing all this suffering. For not answering my prayers the way I want him to. I can’t forgive him for the traumas and the deaths and the ongoing unpleasantness.

    And Matthew 6:15 runs through my mind again. Forgive. Literally, let go, or give up your right. The word translated as forgive is one that means: Yes, you may have complete justification in demanding recompense; yes you do have the right. But let it go; give it up. You are owed something – but let it go. Regard it as having been paid in full.

    And I hear Him say, “Come to me – I know you’re weary and tearstained and blaming me. But you have my undying love, always, all the time. I’ll take everything you’re carrying, all your brokenness and pain, all your sorrow and heartache. And in return, my Grace is pouring over you, in and through it all. You are my beloved daughter and I love you more than you can imagine. This all will pass but my love for you is for ever and ever.”

    Lord, I need your help to be a forgiving person. Help me see the great love and forgiveness you daily bless me with and from that may I love and forgive others – and you.

    Penelope is an Anglican priest who writes, blogs, mentors others (mostly through Spiritual Direction), contributes to Daily Bread Bible reading notes, and speaks on conferences and retreats. She has just retired from running a small retreat house and now is able to spend more time hiking, reading and daydreaming. With grandchildren on both sides of the Atlantic there is also quite a lot of travelling to be done. She can be found at  http://www.ministriesbydesign.org