It absolutely amazes me when I see how easy it is for some people to forgive grievous things that have happened to them. Like the mother who forgave the man who murdered her daughter, visited him in prison and became friends with him. I can't understand this. It makes me think there's something missing in my psyche.
I don't forgive any bad deed deliberately done to me. I can get past it and carry on a relationship if the deed wasn't too horrendous but I'll always be a little wary of the perpetrator. Heaven forbid if someone seriously hurts someone I love because I'll want their head on a platter. A minor hurt probably means they're out of my life for good. I don't fault myself for this because it just happens to be the way I'm wired.
I tend to think that people who forgive are better people than I am. They have something I don't and that something raises them up. The lady who forgave her daughter's killer will always make me wonder how she does it, though. I believe her forgiveness is real and that it gave her comfort in some way but I will never understand it.
One thing, though, is that I don't dwell on the people who remain unforgiven in my mind. I understand this is a loss in my life but don't fault myself for it. If I can't be somewhat comfortable around a person, I don't want to be around them at all.
Forgiveness seems to come naturally to almost everyone so why does it escape me? To be so stringent in my judgement it should follow that I'm a perfect human being but I'm far from it. I've committed cruel acts that I'm deeply ashamed of and I don't forgive that, either. The mind is a weird and wonderful thing to have and to analyze.
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