Exacting Perfect Revenge

I would have invited them to carve the Thanksgiving turkey had I known they were this good at stabbing in the back. But, no matter, now that they've made a Caesar salad out of me (et tu, croutons?), I do what everyone learns to do when someone hurts their wittle feelings: I walk it off. 

And I plan the perfect revenge. Oh yes. After everything that made me sad, made me miserable, and that I certainly didn't deserve, it's time that my offenders learn exactly what it feels like to be hurt, betrayed, and implicitly mocked every time I'm reminded by someone. Because, again, I didn't deserve it. But they very obviously do. 

What could possibly feel more liberating to a hurting soul than to hurt another soul harder? All the impulses of the bleeding heart cry for a one-sided and tunnel-visioned justice that will promptly stamp out the source of pain and discomfort and set right what was set wronged. 

But is that actually going to bring peace? Is that what I truly want? If justice is to be completely satisfied, then I should be thrust into the incoming destruction in tandem with the perceived evils I wish to have vanquished as well. Then the victory to me would be more hollow than a dead tree. A hollow dead tree. Trying to paint a picture here. 

I feel like I could write a whole book on my personal journey with forgiveness. I've had very uncomfortable encounters with people in the past that were objectively wrong in my direction. Each time, I had to make a speedy decision to forgive. To just let it go. To let the offender get their own hurt out of their system so that I could move on and heal without spreading the poison elsewhere. Each time, the challenge was a little harder, but the forgiveness came more readily with practice. 

So why is this particular episode extra hard? Well, if you've followed my recent series of unfortunate events, you'll get a quick picture of why it's easy for me to feel like I've been kicked when I was down. I'll give you a quick summary: When things got tough, the girl I loved left me to marry the fellow she was seeing on the side, and right after that, there were a few family health scares and a damaged water pipe causing catastrophic water damage to 3/4 of the house I lived in. Everything happened at once. None of it could be helped, but that first thing felt extremely personal. 

I wasn't ready to move on. It was my first heartbreak and it came at the worst time. There were so many cross and harsh words I wanted to say. But I couldn't articulate a single one. So I gave up. No more fighting. No begging. I didn't deserve to have anyone, I thought. So in resignation, I published a book of poetry that encapsulated all my feelings about our long, tumultuous romance and its unexpected and abrupt ending then released it on my first Valentine's Day alone.  That'll show her. 

It didn't show her. She never read it. She doesn't know it exists. But it sure showed me. It showed me how deep my wounds were. It showed me how many wounds I had. Some wounds were my own making. Some wounds she made. Some wounds were from none of us and I have no clue where they came from. The darkness set in. 

Anyway, read the last two blog posts to get a picture of my feelings since that point. No need to hash that out again (again). But now I was ready to move on. In the midst of injustice, all my heart longed for was satisfaction. Any satisfaction. So in walks God. 

Actually, He had been there the whole time. I was too sad to see. Over the course of the year, I spent time reading God's Word, praying in tears, and I let myself feel feelings so that I could learn how to navigate them. Here's what God taught me:

1. He's listening. Psalm 66:17-20

2. He chastens those He loves. Proverbs 3:12

3. He is my source of Strength (remember this one, it's important). Psalm 46:1

4. He will fight for me. Psalm 34

5. He will direct my steps. Psalm 37:23-24

6. He will avenge those who wrong me. Psalm 40:11-16

At this point, I was ecstatic. All these great lessons and now, like Jonah under the shade of the gourd, I awaited the destruction of those who had so horrifically wronged me. But there was one more lesson God wanted to teach me:

 

7. He will forgive those who forgive. Ephesians 4:31-32; Mark 11:25; Matthew 6:15; Matthew 18:21-22; Colossians 3:13; Matthew 5:23-24; Matthew 5:7; James 5:16 

But how can I? My broken heart longs to be patched up. If I forgive what was done to me, I would have to let the one who hurt me go free. You see, as a Christian, I have a very unique insight into what forgiveness is. Jesus paid the penalty for the sins I would commit before I ever repented of them. Complete forgiveness for me, even though I never deserved it. He has separated me from my sin as far as the East is from the West. He threw all my iniquities into the depths of the sea. As much as I never wanted to, God clearly tapped my shoulder to tell me now it is my turn to forgive. 

Ok, I'll do it after I heal a bit from the heartbreak. I'd hate to relinquish all the hurt she owes me only to be hurt again. But is that really forgiveness if there's no more hurting? 

At best, that's just calling a truce. 

Maybe I'll send her a card expressing my well wishes and that'll accidentally remind her about all the horrible and definitely evil things she did to me. Then when she says sorry, I'll triumphantly forgive her, scoring the winning round! But is that really forgiveness if I'm doing it to prove a point? 

At best, that's revenge. 

No, my friends. The time for forgiveness is now. When I'm hurt. When she doesn't ask for it. When nobody deserves it. When I won't get peace from it, or social clout from it, or recognition from it, or any kind of special favors. For it to be true forgiveness like Christ's, then the one who did me so wrong walks away freely, owing nothing more to me, with a record that shines clean like it never happened. 

Can a feeble, broken heart bear the heavy weight of such a task? Only in Christ. Cliche it may sound, it is only through the Strength (remember this lesson?) that comes from God that forgiveness can be offered from me to her. It is only through His direction (and this lesson?) that I can follow through with it. The burdensome fate can only be realized when I wrap myself up completely in the LORD. 

Do this with me: 

-Think of someone who has wronged you. Especially someone who wronged you and got away with it. 

-Tally up in your head every single thing that made it wrong and with it an equal and just punishment to effectively atone for what they did. 

-Now take that list in your head, and destroy it completely. Forget every piece of it. 

With no list of wrongs, no due punishments, this person is to you now just as clean as if they had never done anything wrong to you in the first place. As far as you're concerned, they haven't. 

Congratulations, we just forgave someone together. You know what's cool? We got to display a very significant aspect of God's love for us through our own sufferings. You see, love keeps no record of wrongs, and it endures through everything. If we are called to love one another, what better place to start than to truly forgive each and every person who comes through our short and significant life? Keep this lesson close to you. There will be others who will hurt you, others who will wound your fragile heart. It is your Christian duty, then, to forgive each and every single one -- that is to say, to love them as wholly and deeply as Christ does. It is certainly a task too big for us unless we rely on the Strength and Grace that only comes from our Heavenly Father. 

What could possibly feel more liberating than to forgive those who trespass against us as our Father in Heaven forgives when we trespass against Him?

The Shadow at my Door

 "Oh great, here comes that guy again," you say.

"Which guy?"

"That guy who's always complaining," moaning, you lament. 

But it's too late. Mr. Woe-Is-Me has already overtaken you to complain about a toxic ex and some gaslighting kin and relation. You're stuck. You're on the hook for a long, one-sided convo where you only contribute the occasional "dang that's crazy"s, a few "really"s, and if you're exceptionally generous, a hearty "wow, that sounds terrible." But you can bet your last icebreaker that you will straight up NOT be having a good time. 

You've been here, right? Nobody likes that guy. What a downer. What a soggy bowl of limp linguini. 

But what happens when it's you one day?  What if you actually did have a toxic ex and some gaslighting kin and relation, and now your heart is constantly heavy over it? What if you really just need someone who will listen and empathize? Your whole life, you've avoided Sir Complainer, Drainer of Health, Downer of Heart. But each time you open your mouth, you have to swallow hard to not say "It's just not fair," "Why is it me who has to suffer", and "I can't believe she would do this to me". So you straighten your crown, smile for the people, and cry in the shower.

Hardly seems right. But what's a Stick in the Mud to do?

You know, I just wrote a blog post that was my little spotlight opportunity to complain about some of the recent hardships I'm enjoying. Thank you all for indulging me in that. Let me just encourage you to always seek some healthy way of getting your frustrations out. It won't be the last time you'll need to vent, trust me. 

If you're anything like me, you've been suppressing the sad boi routine lest you be heralded in your circles as the Man of Constant Sorrow, and not in the cool Dan Tyminski way. This recurring depression-and-no-one-else-to-appreciate-it routine has become your Thorn in the Flesh. 

There was once a very famous Thorn in the Flesh bearer who wrote about his experience thusly:

And lest I should be exalted above measure through the abundance of the revelations, there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure.

For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me.

And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.

Now let me just make this clear: I'm pretty sure ol Paul wasn't dealing with a former flame of his. However, he never specifically details what his Thorn is, probably because the specifics of it don't matter. The part that matters is what becomes of us when we are bothered, afflicted, oppressed, or in any other way bamboozled. 

I said in a previous post that there were so many lessons God was teaching me through heartbreak. Just when I think I've learned them all, a picture, a memory, a token of some sort crosses my periphery, and another exciting bout with the ol Black Dog begins. 

"...when I am weak, then am I strong." What does it mean? When the mood goes down and the proverbial plane begins to tailspin, it's hard to feel strong. If anything, depression feels like a pathetic weakness, especially to a man. I'm supposed to be the towering beacon of stoic strength and the embodiment of the "I don't give a feather or a fig" mindset. But when you see someone you completely trusted celebrating her engagement to someone else just under a year after she left you, there are actually a couple feathers and maybe a plump fig or two you could find in your heart to give. Where is my strength now?

My strength comes from the Maker of Heaven and Earth of course. Super easy to say. But it's only when your head is down, your feet are in the mire, and your eyeball condensation gets really bad (it's the weather, guys. Men don't cry.), you learn lessons like these in a way that'll stay with you awhile. There is no one else to trust than the LORD. There is no other deliverance from sorrow than He. Unless I claim these truths and run to Him, I'm never going to experience the strength that is made perfect in my weakness. 

There it is. My depressions, no matter how severe, are not only tolerable when Christ is at the center, but they are useful, beneficial, and even impactful. When pain or bitterness begins to grow in me, when that ol Black Dog is on my porch again, when my heart is in any way overwhelmed, I'm led to the Rock which is higher than I. I trust He's in control. I trust He's taking care of me. I trust He's worked everything out for my good. I trust He won't forsake me. I trust He will lead me beside still waters and restore my soul. 

And then, there's peace. The problem doesn't go away, but there's peace. I would've thought it impossible to have peace and depression simultaneously, but hey, if God made the platypus, is anything too complicated for Him?

I know this won't be the last time I get to feel the blues with a capital DEPRESSION. This may not even be the last time I feel bitter about someone. But each time, I'll learn a little more about how to rely on God alone for my happiness.  No longer will I wish for a certain event to become infested with rodents or for a certain cake to get stale. (Although, if somebody broke a nail before a certain event, it might bring a smile to my face.) I can take joy in knowing my Shepherd leads me to green pastures. Further, I need to not become vindictive and exact revenge against those who hurt me, because the Father forgives those who forgive others. See Matthew 6: 14-15. I'll write a post about that next, I think. 

Anyway, thanks for indulging me yet again. I send away the shadows of the dark now, hoping you'll come back to hear me out when they come back next time.