Whenever genuine guilt buries us under an avalanche of harsh memories, there remains no will even to forgive our own selves.
At such a moment the dazzling glimmer of being forgiven is incomprehensible. It's a refreshment experienced but never understood. The whole problem of being forgiven is – why would anyone want to forgive? What precipitates such a super-normal expression of grandness? Unbelievably, one word alone can crystallize such a staggering act. Love.
But then what kind of love would that be? There's no way to measure, by breadth or width or height or depth, this deepest and most moving of all human expressions. Its unconditional. Its done without expectation of any rewards. Why, sometimes its even done when you know full well you are going to be hurt again. That's love. Real love. Love, as the good Book says, "that covers a multitude of sins." This is the oppurtunity we get to become as Christ to another person. This is when the blood from the cross cacaphonies in the chorus –
I'll never know how much it cost,
To see my sin upon that Cross.
This is that moment when we realize that the cost is never borne by the forgiven, its always borne by the forgiver. Always.
That cost is borne for one reason alone. Love.
Have you loved someone today? Try it. It makes life worth it, in spite of the broken world we live in. Try loving. Dont attempt to forgive anyone. It never works. Just try loving. It works all the time. The rest is automatic.