And still, he raises his fist in triumph

I have this fantasy in my head that one day we will meet. Not by accident, although my brain isn’t giving me any clues as to how we will know to meet at that particular coffeeshop on that particular day, just that it was arranged and agreed upon. We’re older, at least five years from now, and, since it’s my fantasy, I have fabulous hair. In my mind, we’re somewhere urban, like DC or New York or even Boston, and we sit and have coffee (she never drank coffee, though) and talk like civilized people. An official breakup of sorts, I suppose, though I don’t have a box of things to give back to her, and the only thing I want back is the key to my heart.

In my fantasy, it will go well (where “well” is that there’s no yelling and I don’t cry), and we will part ways at the end and there will be closure. There won’t be any hugs, because our relationship doesn’t warrant that anymore. As we leave the coffeeshop, she’ll turn right and I’ll turn left, and that will be the last we see of each other.

I assumed Jesus wanted me to forgive her, but I also know he loves honesty and transparency. I don’t think he was rolling his eyes impatiently at me while she was in the closet. I don’t think much surprises him: this is how we make important changes — barely, poorly, slowly. And still, he raises his fist in triumph. – Anne Lamott, Plan B

I read Anne Lamott’s new book, and I agree with the reviews that said it’s not quite as good as Traveling Mercies, but I still enjoyed it. There was still plenty of stuff that had me laughing out loud, plenty of things I kept reading to Mike.

I started reading it at lunchtime one day, and when I got to the chapter about her mother, I really lost it. I have a good relationship with my mother, but there are definitely some other people I need to forgive for some very deep hurts. I keep rushing myself, thinking, “It’s been enough time, why am I still struggling with this?” Mike and many of my friends say the fact that I am struggling with it, that I’m not content in my anger and lack of forgiveness is enough for now, that it’s not a science and I can’t expect things to work on timelines. I believe them, I know they are right, and yet none of their encouragement has hit me like the above quote did. I need to be reminded that Jesus isn’t getting impatient with me, and that he understands what a victory things like forgiveness can be for those of us here on earth. That forgiveness is not about something you check off your list or you do out of fear that your own trespasses won’t be forgiven. It’s about healing, because that’s what God wants for us.

The fact that I want closure, the fact that I imagine how it will be (and that there’s no yelling) is enough for me right now. I’m getting there.

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