I am quickly skimming through my inbox when I see it. An unexpected name. I hastily open the message only to read—of course—a hateful remark. Teary eyes. Deep breaths. Conscious effort to stop the spiraling thoughts.
And I remember the truth I know so well: Forgiveness is a choice. It's time to choose it again.
Frustrated with myself at first—Ugh. I shouldn't still have to pep talk myself to forgive!—I realize something. I haven't thought of the situation in a long time. Not like this. Not in a way that leaves me feeling hurt or betrayed or upset. Not in a way that reminds me I still have a long way to go in the forgiveness journey.
The things that have come up, oddly enough, have all been good. Appropriately reminiscent.
So while I may get annoyed with my seeming lack of progress when a "surprise attack" catches my heart off guard and requires conscious effort to forgive, I also have to acknowledge that the days, weeks, and even months that go by without even a second thought about it is a sure sign of progress.
And I am grateful.
Lifted eyes. Thankful breaths. More graciously—less gritted-teeth-fully—forgiveness is mine to choose.
And so I choose.
Again.
{And it won't be the last.}