Dear Father,
It is true what they say — be careful what you pray for.
I am sure you remember Liz, my former colleague? She called a few days ago, asking for forgiveness. This was a woman who assassinated my character at work, spread a false rumour that I was sleeping with the boss, and because of that, I was forced to leave that job covered in shame. Yes. That same Liz called me a few days ago with a shaky voice, begging for forgiveness.
Lord, you know how hard this is for me.
This is my “Letter to God – I’m Not Ready to Forgive”…
At first, I was shocked. A woman like Liz — filled with so much hate and resentment — calling me like that. I have been praying that you help me forgive those I consider my enemies, but I did not think you would test me this quickly. I thought I was making progress. Then her call came and welled up so much hurt in my heart that I did not know what to do with it.
I was mocked. I was ridiculed. This was a woman I helped when she was going through a hard time, and she turned around and caused so much pain. As I write this, I am consumed by a deep-seated anger and resentment. How do I get over this? I could not even respond properly on the phone. I want this feeling — this thing rooted so deep inside me — gone. But if I am honest, part of me feels like I need it, like it is the only thing keeping me justified.
She got away with it. The gossiping, the lies, the hate she spread — she walked away from all of it, and I was the one who could not stay. I hung up. I could not get the words out. She tried calling a few more times, but I do not know what to say, and here I am writing this letter instead.
I need your help to forgive this woman. I know I have a better job now. I know you have been faithful. But this wound goes deeper than the job, and I cannot pretend otherwise.
Then I heard the Holy Spirit tell me to pray for her. How, Lord? How do I do that? I do not even understand why I would hear such a thing, but here I am, because I know this poison inside me is killing me slowly and stealing my joy one day at a time.
Yesterday I got on my knees to pray for her. I could not even last a minute before I stood back up.
Help me. You forgive me all the time — every single time. Surely you can help me find a way to do this for someone else.
I cannot do this by myself.
Susan.
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