Pounding Nails

She lied. She sinned. Ultimately, she broke hearts. The pain could have been reaped for years if we had let it. I didn't think our friend ship would ever be the same. I found it essentially impossible to put trust in her words after viciously deceptive ones left that same mouth. Part of me would have rather not cared to try at all.

No matter how much I wanted to, forgiveness hardly appeared to be an option.

I was holding fast to a heart with clenched hands, suffocating it. I was what stood in its way of freedom. That breathless heart was mine. It was a captive to my fear of her lies that could resurface if I forgave her. Then I felt a whisper against my soul, what made me so much better than her? What made me the victim?

I thought of my Jesus, whom I claim to love. Putting work, chores, luxuries before Him -- at that I am an expert. I read my Bible and cross it off my to-do list like it's a burden. I find time for Him when He is always waiting expectantly for me to turn to Him, and always wanting one more sweet moment to spend with me. I wonder how many times a day I hurt His heart. I wonder how many times in my 16 years I have put pain in His eyes. I thought of all the times I had little affairs, choosing that song, task, word, or person before Him; just pounding that nail deeper into His hand.

Upon that I realized, finding forgiveness for her may not be so difficult after all.