I posted a picture of my birth mother on a social media site for Mother’s Day—I was four years old when she died, a loss which had a well so deep that it was impossible to hear a pebble drop as it fell to the depths below.  There are many losses like that, and because of the broken, fallen nature of this planet there really are few people that cannot identify in one way or another with intense, penetrating grief.

After posting the picture, I experienced some guilt and mixed emotions about not mentioning my step-mother.  My dad remarried two years after my mom died and the most accurate word I can come up with to describe our relationship is to say that it was an “ambivalent” one.  From my understanding, I concluded that what was once a loving, adventuresome family home became a violently angry, controlling one.  What, for me, began in hope became constant conflict so that it was a great relief when I was sent to boarding school at (almost) fourteen.

I think most people recognize that forgiveness is an integral part of spiritual growth and emotional healing – no matter how difficult it is to do sometimes.  It is possible to have wounds so deep that they are impossible to forgive without the power of the Holy Spirit at work in our hearts and minds.

When Jesus spoke to the desperate father, whose son was tormented by an unclean spirit, He told the man, “If you can believe, all things are possible to him who believes” (Mark 9:23).  And “immediately the father of the child cried out and said with tears, ‘Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!’” (v. 24)

Sometimes I think, “Lord, I forgive; help my unforgiveness!”

Forgiveness is always an act of faith, believing that what another may have intended for evil, God’s purpose is to use it for good—echoing the words of Joseph, “…you meant evil against me; but God meant it for good, in order to bring it about as it is this day, to save many people alive” (Genesis 50:20).  …trusting “that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28).  Acknowledging that “in all these things [tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, peril, or sword] we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us…persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:35-39).

And recognizing (though often forgetting) that “we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual host of wickedness in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12).

Mother’s Day provided an opportunity to examine my heart (1 Corinthians 11:28; 2 Corinthians 13:5), to identify my actions and understand my motives. I didn’t see a root (or a plant) of bitterness; however, I became aware of a seed of bitterness.  Though seeds may appear to be dead or dormant, they retain the capacity to sprout and grow—seed found in the ancient ruins of Masada provide stunning evidence to support that!  

So I had the opportunity to confess the sin lingering in my heart, knowing that when I confess my sin to God, He is faithful and just to forgive me and cleanse me from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9).

Yet I’ve had difficulty finishing writing this because so many thoughts have bombarded me about seeds, a root of bitterness [“Pursue peace with all people, and holiness, without which no one will see the Lord; looking carefully lest anyone fall short of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up cause trouble, and by this many become defiled…” – Hebrews 12:14, 15], forgiveness, and examining myself.

Interesting that the concern the Holy Spirit expressed through the writer of Hebrews is that we should fall short of the grace of God.

Grace isn’t something we work for, it is something we receive by faith—and when we receive God’s abundant grace, recognizing how desperately we need it—we can eagerly extend it to those around us who need it just as much as we do!

And I got to do that in the last few years of my step mom’s life.  After my dad died, she suffered severe dementia; and, although I lived 120 miles away I drove up to see her as often as I could—often several times a month, sometimes weekly—cooking her favorite meals and sitting with her.  I recently discovered a memory I recorded at that difficult time…

“A couple of times when I was sitting with mom, she asked me ‘Who are your parents?’ and ‘Are you happy with your parents?’ I told her that she is my mom. One time she said, ‘But I’m not your real mom. Who is your real mom?’ My reply was that Frankie was my real mom. She asked me why I wasn’t with her, and I reminded her that Frankie was dead. So we agreed that she could be my mom.”

God’s love is so all encompassing, so forgiving, so healing—He can work the miracles in our hearts that are impossible for us.  He sows seeds of “love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, [and] self-control” (Galatians 5:22, 23) through His Spirit who dwells in us.  Even when we wrestle with our own humanness, we can rest in the assurance that the one who began the work of redemption in our lives will continue to carry it out until we look on His glorious face (Philippians 1:6).