Most of us really don’t understand forgiveness. If we’re honest, we crave forgiveness at some point from someone, either a person we’ve wronged, or from God. We want it for ourselves, but we’re loath to grant it to others. We say things like, “there’s no way I can forgive that person…it would be like saying what they did was okay. It would be like an open invitation for them to keep doing it.”

But let’s stop for a moment and think about that God dynamic. When we confess our trespasses and sincerely ask to be forgiven, do we actually expect God to tell us that what we did was okay? Of course not! We know that forgiveness from God comes for actions that are absolutely NOT okay. What else would we need to be forgiven for? So, can we take that off the table? Forgiveness is not the same as excusing or condoning bad behavior. It’s much deeper than that.

Unforgiveness is hazardous to your health

A surgeon named Dabney Ewin conducted a series of experiments in 1978 on burn victims he was treating. He observed that many of his patients were extremely angry, either with themselves or another person they blamed for their injuries. His angry patients were slower to recover and their bodies more often rejected skin grafts than patients who were not so angry. His conclusion was their deep anger was interfering with their ability to heal.

When he took steps to help his patients forgive themselves or others, he saw their stress levels drop and they achieved faster recovery times. Unforgiveness had a tangible effect on their emotional and physical healing, but choosing to let go of their anger allowed his patients to relax and respond better to their treatment.

Another researcher, Dr. Robert Enright, a psychologist at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, developed a four-part forgiveness therapy in the 1990s:  1) uncovering your anger, 2) deciding to forgive, 3) working on forgiveness, and 4) discovery and release from emotional prison. I think that last part is the most telling – unforgiveness is nothing less than an emotional prison.

Christian pastor Greg Laurie puts it this way: “Unforgiveness is like drinking rat poison and then waiting for the rat to die.” Withholding forgiveness does little or nothing to the object of our anger; it only imprisons and even incapacitates us. And thus showing forgiveness, which we’re actually commanded to do, is an act of liberation…for ourselves. Forgiving that person releases us from the bondage we put our own selves in, for when we hold onto anger we sacrifice our own peace.

Jesus taught us to ask God to forgive our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. He went on to say, “For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.”

But, how?

Easier said than done? Absolutely. So, how do you forgive someone who doesn’t deserve it, maybe doesn’t even want it? Enright’s four-part therapy is an excellent model. First, you must recognize your anger and the damaging effect it’s had on your health, your outlook on life, the way you act, even your relationship with God. Understanding that, next make a conscious decision to forgive.

Working on forgiveness is where it might get a little harder. You can start by praying for that person. Jesus said, “Love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you.” You may be surprised to find that by really praying for that person you develop compassion and empathy for them.

The payoff comes in the final step. As you begin to truly forgive, the weight of hurt, anger, and longing for vengeance will start to lift. The chains of your emotional prison will break. Who knows, you could even discover a way to bring some good out of your experience.

Consider the Old Testament story of Joseph, who suffered great cruelty at the hands of his brothers. He had every reason to be bitter and vindictive; no one would have blamed him if he had destroyed his brothers when he had the chance. Yet he rose above his plight in dramatic fashion and he showed mercy instead. “You intended evil for me,” he said to them, “but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. So then, don’t be afraid.”

His actions healed a family and left a shining example for the rest of us.

Now, who do you need to forgive?

“Continue us not in our goods, but in our services.”

I don’t think I’ve ever dreamed a prayer before, but that was a line I either heard or read in a dream last night. I could dismiss it as a random string of unrelated words, as dreams so often generate. Or I could embrace it as a pretty cool metaphor.

Might it have been a supplication for strength to rise above the everyday grind of tasks and action items? To set our energy on the greater good through serving others, on providing value and not just “stuff” to do?

There’s the obvious spiritual connotation – do your words and actions constitute service to God and those around you?

And there is also a work and life context. In your job or other avocation do your activities simply allow you to check something off your to-do list, or do they provide a tangible benefit? Is there a worthy purpose for what you do?

This frail and disfigured little tree stands just outside our dining room window. We call it our Survivor Tree.

It’s not much to look at. The oddly curved branch once was the trunk, much longer and rising straight and strong toward the sky. But when a severe winter storm struck a few years ago it nearly collapsed under ice that entombed its branches. Ice can increase the weight of a tree’s branches by as much as 30 times; this tree bent all the way over until some of its branches touched the ground. A few branches were indeed lost, broken off under the icy weight.

I thought it would stand back up when I knocked the ice off of the remaining limbs just as the other shrubs and trees in the yard had done. It didn’t. Instead, it remained stooped and defeated. “It’s done,” I was told. “You need to get rid of it and maybe plant something else in its place.”

But I refused to cut it down. “Let’s just give it a few weeks and see what happens in spring.” I pruned back the most damaged branches and waited.

Sure enough, as the weather turned warm again small green shoots began to appear on the upper side of the bent trunk. The little tree had survived the ice storm. In time the shoots became tiny new branches that sprouted leaves. You could almost hear them crying out, “there’s still life here!”

It’s winter again now and our Survivor Tree is bare. But in a few weeks those signs of life, symbols of being a survivor, will start to appear again.  Something that’s not much to look at now will transform into a poetic image that “looks at God all day and lifts her leafy arms to pray,” to borrow a line from Joyce Kilmer.

There’s a lesson to be learned here, of course.

Don’t be in a hurry to write off something, or someone, bent or broken by life’s winter storms. As long as there is life, there is hope. Hope for regeneration, for rebirth, for not just surviving but even thriving again.

First weekend in November – that exquisite moment in time when you know without doubt you’re in the home stretch toward the holiday season. Summer a distant memory, your world is now painted autumn yellow and red. Halloween is history and Thanksgiving really will be here soon. You can almost feel your spirits lift, just a little, in anticipation.

Then, as if that weren’t enough to put a smile on your face, you remember you’re getting an extra hour of sleep tonight as the clocks fall back to standard time.

Savor it. These moments are free – and priceless.