The jailer of unforgiveness

In 2002, a drunk driver forever changed my life and taught me a lesson about unforgiveness.  Hit from behind at 65 miles an hour, I became a “victor” of this woman’s disease (notice I didn’t say “victim”).  At the time, I didn’t know how profoundly this one moment in my life would change me, in a positive way, forever. The year following the accident I was asked to give a victim’s witness testimony for the prosecuting attorney.  The morning of her hearing, I sat at my computer and began to write.  The anguish I felt spilled over the page, allowing me to unload much more than just my unforgiveness toward this woman.  Cathartically, it felt good.  Spiritually, it felt out of place.   I remember the torn emotional struggle I felt between the two extremes; should I be honest about the damage she caused or forgiving and let it go?  The latter didn’t even seem like a choice, but it was.  As I sat there in front of my keyboard, the Holy Spirit spoke very clearly into my heart, “Why don’t you let me write the letter”, He said.  Through the blinding stream of tears I began to write as if I was taking dictation.  What poured out on the page was not from me but from Him so that we both could be set free.  Simply put:  He loved her and wanted her to love Him and trust Him with her life.

“For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.” (Matthew 6:14 NIV)

It took many, many years for me to understand fully that “teachable moment”:  When we fail to forgive someone we become their “jailer”.  Not only do we spiritually join in on the stronghold that keeps them jailed in their past, we feed the spiritual stronghold trying to stop our future.  Our lives become consumed with our unforgiveness each time we pay any attention to our perpetrators affliction upon our lives.  Instead of (truly) giving God the keys to their cell through our decision and willingness to forgive, we become the jailer who has to maintain a vigil outside their prison gate (continuously recalling our past encounter with them by holding onto our pain) mistakenly thinking we’re the ones who are “free”.  Unforgiveness keeps an eye on the past offense, refusing to let it go when we think we can somehow gain control of our emotional pain by holding onto the keys of their prison cell (their sin against us).  The moment I read what God wrote to this woman was the moment I (too) was set free.

Thought to live by:  Unforgiveness locks us in our own prison.   Give God the keys and let Him be the “jailer” who sets you free.

“Who’s your Daddy; knowing God as Abba Father” Copyright © 2011, Pat Ferguson