The bad report about a friend stunned me. Without hesitation, I believed it. Anger, sadness, disappointment. All of those emotions followed me around the house as I prepared for a busy day of running errands and catching up on undone tasks. I threw my purse and library books into the car, made sure I had my to do list and started to back out of the driveway.

That morning I had studied Psalm 32 and 33 and was struck by a picture of God's love resting on me and surrounding me. I had committed to viewing the circumstances of that day through the grid of God's surrounding love. I was eager to see how practical the presence of God's love would be in every day details. Frankly, I was looking forward to a warm, fuzzy intimacy with Him, maybe a parking space in the crowded mall, a great price for a purchase...you know, fun things. God had another agenda.

Before I turned onto our street, something other worldly happened. I heard a voice or a thought, not sure exactly, "Sharon, my love rests on you. My love surrounds you. How will that truth change the way you respond to this bad report?"

Yes, God had another agenda. My first opportunity to choose God's way, not mine. Was my friend guilty as charged? What was the evidence? Another person's words? What was the "reporter's" agenda? Before you rebuke me for listening to gossip, the "reporter" wasn't gossiping. Trust me on that. Another scripture came to mind:

The first to present his case seems right, till another comes forward and questions him. Proverbs 18:17

For forty years I've been a pastor's wife and I'm confident that many bad reports have been shared about my husband's ministry. And I'm sure that many are the words spoken about my own fallacies and mis-steps. I've always hoped that when those reports are given that the hearer would step back and think, "I won't believe this until I see the evidence." At the least I hoped for an opportunity to give our side of the story or explain our behavior or even ask forgiveness for hurting another and righting the wrong. I hoped for mercy and compassion.

Yet in those first moments after hearing the bad report about my friend, I did none of those things. I jumped to judgment.

God's love surrounded me in those moments because He used the bad report as spiritual sandpaper to reveal my own dark heart. How many times have I believed a bad report about another person, with no thought for how hurt she or he would be if they knew I did not believe the best (1 Corinthians 13)? How many times has an unsubstantiated bad report unfairly influenced my relationship with another person? How many opportunities to share hope and help in Jesus have I missed because I pre-judged another woman? How often do I treat such reports with a casualness that diminishes the value of the other person's life?

I should know better. James tells me (and I've taught it so many times) that the tongue is a fire that fills the body with great evil. He gives me hope in that he declares none of us can tame it, that we will stumble. But he also warns me to beware of this great potential for evil and that only by God's grace can we find any victory over our tongues. I felt such guilt over my initial reaction. What to do? Repent and choose to believe the best. Fortunately I had not repeated this bad report to anyone else.

You may wonder if the initial bad report was true. For this discussion, it doesn't matter. What matters is that in that moment God's love gave me a choice: automatically believe the worst or choose to withhold judgment until all the evidence is in.

That's how I hope others will treat me. And I know that's how my friends hope I will protect them. God's love surrounds me whether I treat others with compassion or not. And sometimes that love is the voice of discipline as my Father takes my face in His hands and rebukes me for choosing evil over His righteousness. May God (and my friends) have mercy on me as I continue to learn what it means to be His daughter.

In His Grip,
Sharon

A friend showed me what walking by faith looks like when your heart is broken. Unless God gave me grace, I couldn't do what she did. My own heart agreed with her cries, "This isn't fair! I shouldn't have to do this! How can I? I can't! I can't!"

I wanted to tell her, "Then don't. I agree with you - this isn't fair. Your enemy doesn't deserve grace." But I couldn't join her obedience resistance because Jesus had already given her marching orders. His call was clear. Forgive.

Someone has said that choosing not to forgive is like eating rat poison and waiting for the rat to die. What a picture of bitterness. Bitterness steals peace. No peace means no rest.

Forgiveness requires walking by faith. Walking by faith requires doing what doesn't come naturally and goes against every normal response.

A few months ago I joined a Body Pump class at our local YMCA. Fortunately, a friend warned me to start out slowly because after her first class she could not move without crying. I thought I had heeded her advice but the next day I moaned with every step to the point that my husband rushed to my side to help me. "Don't pay attention to my cries. It's just that every muscle in my body is screaming in rebellion over that exercise class!" Our daughter Heidi told me I had to go back and work through the pain. Because I've seen the results of physical perseverance in her life, I followed her orders. I forced my body to surrender to the stretching and weight lifting and push ups. Slowly the muscles got the message and stopped screaming for relief.

The first steps of forgiveness often result in the same kind of emotional and spiritual pain. Dormant spiritual muscles wail, "NO, NO, NO! This HURTS!!" We might conclude that such pain means we shouldn't go forward. But my friend taught me that instead of stopping and going backward, we need to adjust our pace and give ourselves permission to take tinier steps. But we can't stop. What does forgiveness look like and how do we get there? It's different for each situation except for the first step of choosing to obey God's call to forgive. We find the power to forgive by looking at the cross and seeing our enemy through the eyes of Jesus.

As I watched the miracle of grace transform my dear friend into a woman of strength, I envied the miracle of grace I saw in her. But I also knew that unless God gave me similar grace, I could never take the steps I witnessed her take. Forgiveness required her to die to self and put aside her own sense of justice and need for vengeance. She recognized her inability to make hard choices and surrendered her will to wise counselors whose wisdom came from scripture. Emotional and physical exhaustion followed her obedience because her surrender to God's ultimate glory took every ounce of strength to break through the shell of bitterness wrapped around her soul. I saw hope in her eyes for the first time since the betrayal. In that moment she experienced supernatural power she didn't know resided in her soul. She also recognized that this one step was the first of many more difficult moments toward healing and reconciliation.

Trusting God's wisdom and perfect love equips us to obey in the hard moments. But then we must trust again in the obedience. We must trust Him with the outcome of our obedience. And then what do we do when our obedience brings about the very thing we were trying to escape...

In His Grip,
Sharon