The season of gift giving and gift receiving has come and gone. The decorations are sadly finding their way to the red and green tubs, where they will remain until I catapult myself into the attic precisely the second my family deems decorating for Christmas acceptable. (Our daughter has this thing about respecting Thanksgiving by not decorating early. When did she start having an opinion, anyway? Answer: the age of 2)
Ready or not—January—the season of new beginnings, resolutions, let's try this agains, and invigorating purge-ready energy to finally change our lives for the better is here—along with our new friend, #bombcyclone. (Stay warm, y'all.)
Sidenote: I find it interesting that Valentine's Day is in Feb. My theory is that the greeting card industry picked up on the need to have an excuse to love ourselves after the epic fails of January. Just saying.
Oftentimes, our new year begins with the repair of relationship—extending forgiveness towards those who have wronged us. A crucial moving on step in the healing process, and what better time to utter those three life-breathing words than during the season of all things new? But what about the response? You've wronged someone. They forgive you. Do you accept their forgiveness?
My daughter brought this concept up to me after I shot a Facebook live video promoting my new book, Free and Clear.
"Mom, did you say your new book is about forgiveness?"
"Yes, I did." A little surprised a) she was listening b) she cared
"Do your stories ever address learning how to accept forgiveness?"
"Ummm..." a) when did she catapult from 13 to 25? b) such a great question
"If you haven't, I think you should. I have trouble with that myself."
Mama is no longer thinking about her new book. "You do?"
"Yes. Sometimes it's easier not to forgive myself, to accept forgiveness. Sometimes I want to hang onto the guilt."
I'm left blinking in the hallway, while she bee bops into her room to hang up her new bow she received for Christmas, oblivious to the wake of mind-blowing thoughts left in her path of dropping the mic.
And here I am, knowing I'm supposed to explore this thought a little deeper, and wondering if I'm alone in the truth of this statement: I am not good at accepting forgiveness, because like my 13-year-old, there is some comfort in hanging on to the guilt.
Do you accept forgiveness? Or do you have trouble with this, too?
Please comment or private message me with your thoughts.
Amanda Williams is a forty-year old wife and mother of two who can still swing her pony tail and display just a tad of sass. She is also a Jesus loving girl who realizes she is nothing without the One who saved her. Amanda has two degrees specializing in serving students with special needs and is currently working in the field of Leadership Development. She is a Christian author, speaker, blogger, and publisher who loves serving beside her husband at her local place of worship, First Baptist Church of Ocala.