|
Forgiveness: The Supreme Act of Loving One’s Self
"A wise man will make haste to forgive, because he knows the true value of time, and will not suffer it to pass away in unnecessary pain." Samuel Johnson
In his first trial for murder, he was sentenced to Life Without The Possibility of Parole. It was a simple, open-and-shut case. I was at peace. The system worked.
But smart people know how to manipulate the system. After an appeal, he was set free. Free: for putting nine bullets throughout my brother’s body. Free: for attempting suicide at the scene and stating so in the presence of 5 police officers. Free: for having the audacity to hire a team of cunning lawyers to make his aggression appear as self-defense in a second trial.
How does one forgive such a person?
Interesting fact: as I write this article, I make the conscious effort to unclench my jaws. Forgiveness, in this circumstance, is a process.
I felt like a mosquito in a nudist colony: where should I begin?
I was stunned, numb. The man who callously took my brother’s life and publicly stated he had no remorse for the act, left the courtroom with his entourage of Armani suits before I could rise from my seat. When I encountered them in the lobby, I found myself approaching him at the speed of an arrow about to pierce his heart. With sheer calm but the intensity of an unleashed tornado, I told him, “You will answer to a Power far greater than yourself who will not believe your lies.”
In contrast, as I departed that scene I felt a calm come over me. I could bury this anger, this sense of injustice, this hatred. But where would that get me? I know when seeds are buried they grow. “This is where cancer comes from,” I said to myself. “Twenty years from now, I do not want to die because of the anger and hatred I plant today.” And then I said to myself and the universe with more resolve than I ever knew I had, “He got one Papili, he isn’t getting two.”
For a little while, though, I fantasized revenge. I’m a long distance bicyclist and an Annie Oakley at the practice range. Nobody would expect a bicycle-by shooting. However, repeating the murderer’s deed would put me on par with him. Besides, I knew my brother wouldn’t want me to suffer this way. My brother was fine and in Life’s Loving Hands. If he could come back, I know he’d say, “Sis, knock it off! Get on with your life.”
Not long after the ordeal, I encountered an acquaintance on the street who also was a therapist. She gave me some good advice even though I wasn’t one of her patients. “Let yourself grieve,” she admonished. “Cry when you need to, talk to your brother’s soul, tell him you’re sorry about what happened to him, be angry at his being vulnerable (it was his best friend and former business partner who killed him), just allow yourself to feel whatever it is you’re feeling. It’s OK.” It turned out to be good advice.
OK. But now what do I do?
Twice in my life I sought professional counseling, both for relationship issues. Since I bring all of my life experiences into my relationships, both of my counselors were wise enough to help me work through some of the issues surrounding my brother’s murder. I highly recommend professional counseling when enduring unbearable grief. And for a while, I felt I was free and clear of anything surrounding my brother’s death.
But time has a way of revealing all things.
I believe we are comprised of four parts: spiritual, intellectual, emotional, and physical. It was time that revealed one or two of those parts still needed to be satisfied. Forgiveness was not in the cards for me. I couldn’t forgive someone who wasn’t sorry. Yet my spirit suffered. So I set about the quest to find a way to forgive and the preliminary part came quickly. Although I could not forgive the murderer on a practical, physical level, I could forgive his soul. This was liberating! For a while, I was content and this worked. But it wasn’t enough. I felt in order to have complete peace I would need to have complete forgiveness.
Intellectual forgiveness was easy for me. On an intellectual level, I could take all of my childhood religious teachings and apply them to the murderer. I decided since both of us were children of our Creator, I could forgive him. It was easy since it was very removed from me.
The emotional and physical forgiveness were quite a different matter and I didn’t realize how intertwined they were until a friend of mine, active in a 12-Step program, handed me a prayer he uses. It’s to be used on anyone against whom resentment is carried, which I definitely carried on my brother’s murderer. It goes thusly:
God, help me pray for ____________.
Thy will be done for him/her.
Give him/her everything that I want for myself.
God, grant_______________ health, happiness, peace and prosperity.
Forgive me this resentment as I have already forgiven ________________.
Take this resentment from me and set me free from it.
Thy will be done for __________________ and for me.
I couldn’t say this prayer for my brother’s murderer! How could I ask God to give him everything that I wanted for myself? I was so burdened by this that I sought my friend’s counsel.
He said it’s important to realize we’re asking God’s will for this person. A light bulb went off inside of me and I immediately picked up the prayer and looked at it again. I was able to say it with only a slight modification of adding the phrase, “according to your will” after every sentence. It was miraculous! Once I turned this situation over to God’s will, I could feel forgiveness on all levels.
The true test came when I eliminated my own addendum. I now can say that prayer, word for word, about my brother’s murderer.
The End Result
Have I completely forgiven him? The clenching of my jaw as I began writing this article leads me to believe not. Forgiveness is a process, but it’s a process that liberates me. I love myself enough to go through that process.
I am not in control of the universe. I can use the help I have available to me and let go. I have a rich, full life to live and must be about living it. For reasons unknown to me, my brother’s murderer has been given the same opportunity, despite his actions. It serves me best to send him only the best intentions, and leave the accountability where it belongs.
|
