Let Go of the Stone, and Be Free

I have written several times about forgiveness on this blog. Perhaps for some that may seem a bit self-serving because I am in prison for committing a crime. That's fair. I am motivated by an intense longing for forgiveness from those I've harmed, both directly and indirectly. But I am also passionate about people finding freedom from unforgiveness because I know what a prison holding unforgiveness can be. Since I have experienced the consequences of actual prison, I am more aware of the consequences of other types of imprisonment. The most devastating consequence, of physical prison and the imprisonment of unforgiveness, is the damage it does to relationships. 

In The Book of Forgiving, Desmond Tutu urges his readers to enact the "stone ritual." First, select a palm-sized stone, and for a six-hour period, carry the stone in your non-dominant hand, not setting the stone down for any reason during this time. Afterwards, the reader is urged to journal about what s/he observed and experienced in this ritual. Together with a few other prisoners, I took up this challenge. Because prison officials would frown on us carrying a palm-sized stone around, we elected to use a AA battery instead. 

What we found during this activity is that carrying something around, even in our non-dominant hands, without ever setting it down is a burden. It was restrictive of the types of activities we could carry out. It was inconvenient, sometimes embarrassing, and took effort to hold on. But we also surprisingly found that we adapted. We found ways to work around the inconvenience, and at times, we forgot it was there. 

Just like this activity shows, holding onto unforgiveness can become "normal" to us. We can adapt, work around, and ignore how that unforgiveness is affecting us. We find a way to survive. Yet, even in that surviving, that adapting, we are still kept from experiencing full freedom. We still have that hindrance keeping us from clapping our hands with joy. The burden of unforgiveness restricts and confines us from living fully free to be ourselves and to be a blessing to others. 

I struggle with unforgiveness at times. Oh, most times I'm quick to forgive, to let things go, to offer restoration to someone who has offended me. But when the offender denies he did wrong or justifies his actions...oh, I can hold onto that stone of unforgiveness! I can turn a cold shoulder, pretend I don't know the person, or find other ways to protect myself from being vulnerable to hurt again. It's a perfectly human response. 

But then I remember that the harm I experienced is so small compared to the harm I've done others. I think about the pain others feel because of the harm I caused. The pain I suffer feels so small in comparison. It feels like a little battery inconveniencing my ability to use my hand--not like a weighty stone threatening to crush my very existence. 

Tutu says that "Forgiveness is not an effortless act for any of us, and it does not serve anyone to minimize the complexity involved in the work of forgiving." So, I hold onto that knowledge. Forgiving is really, really hard sometimes. It might just be that the inconvenience of holding unforgiveness feels easier to deal with than the terrible uncertainty and scary prospect of forgiving someone who has harmed us. Nevertheless, choosing to risk forgiveness comes with great freedom, and I'd much rather be free than in prison--actual prison or the poisoning prison of unforgiveness.