Then Peter came up and said to him [Jesus], “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven.” Matt. 18:21-22
Dear Lord Jesus, I’m running to you this morning with joy in my heart and knots in my gut. The joy is about the exhaustive forgiveness we have in you; the knots come from the costly implications of that same forgiveness. As I pray for myself, I pray for others with the same calling to love well in broken stories that just won’t seem to go away.
As you know, Jesus, I ran into some folk recently with whom I’ve shared a lot of life and plenty of hurts. That run-in was kind of like bumping a previously broken shin into the corner of a low-sitting coffee table. I winced with pain, and withdrew into the silence of a critical heart.
Jesus, I thought I’d already forgiven from my heart. I thought I was already healed. I thought I’d dealt with this thing a long time ago. Out of sight might be out of mind, but it’s not out of the memory band of betrayal and loss.
So I come to you today for seventy-times-seven grace. I’m being held hostage by my own unforgiveness. Jesus, I’m to forgive others as you’ve forgiven me, period. It’s as simple and as costly as that. No, I’m not to be a doormat in any relationship; but I am to be a doorway to the miracle of reconciliation. By the work of the Holy Spirit, I ask you to show me what that will entail in these next several weeks. Some broken relationships are more complex that others.
Low-sitting coffee tables can morph into coiled rattlesnakes in time, and the venom of unforgiveness is just too toxic to store on the shelf of my heart. Untie the knots in my gut with your liberating hands. So very Amen I pray in your redeeming and restoring name.