Have you ever heard someone ask the question.. “Have you forgiven God yet?”
or have you asked it?
Has it been asked of you?
I don’t know where this idea comes from, but I think it is ludicrous.
I think it’s meant to help ease grief in pain, but it is so off the mark.
I’m sure what is meant is resolving the feelings of being betrayed by God. "If He didn’t specifically will this event, He sure allowed it."
Why would He let me be hurt like this? Why is He allowing this?
During the midst of an agonizing trial recently, I was outside shoveling out our driveway from the latest storm, and this question started playing in my head.
“Have you forgiven God yet?”
Forgive God?
To forgive God would mean that He had wronged me – that He had sinned; that His involvement (or non-involvement) was an affront to my plan, to my will.
Taken to its logical end, to be able to forgive God assumes that I am deity - or at the very least a co-equal.
I am obviously not.
This idea of ‘forgiving God’ is preposterous.
Maybe I should work on forgiving Adam. After all it was his choice, his passivity that eventually led the world to the state it is in today:
Broken. Disappointing. Heart wrenching.
To be tame - catastrophically messed up.
Why Adam, why? Just the one rule – how hard could that be?
My wife and I were discussing this idea – forgiving Adam – when she remarked that were we in Adam’s place in the garden, we would have failed as well. We would have made the wrong choice. We would have rebelled.
She’s right.
But here’s the thing: both Adam and I are created. We can forgive one another as co-equal created sinners. I can extend forgiveness to an equal.
God needs never ask or seek my forgiveness. And I should never presume that I can forgive Him who is the Creator.
He is the potter – we are the clay. (Isa. 64:8)
He gives and takes away – and blessed be His Name (Job 1:21)
He is the One who brings comfort (Ps. 46) and Who will bring about a new heavens and new earth (Isa. 65:17, Rev. 21:1-4)
And He is the Risen One Who has bought me with His blood, so that I can experience eternal life with Him in that new place without sorrow, grief, heartache or pain.
So what do I do with the “now”?
The most difficult thing – trust.
Trust that He can and will be glorified in this… this…
Somehow He knows all of this is for my good (Rom. 8:28) and it is all woven into His plan.
And this is so hard to hear in the midst of the storm. Because it sounds cliché.
But it’s truth.
And what I need most for my soul is truth. To be reminded of His faithfulness; His promises.
Not to ‘forgive’ Him.