Forgiveness is an action where our lesser selves decide to be more than less.

We can wander into a wilderness so vast and entangled that it will consume us or we can plummet to depths dark beyond dark, only to discover that God was sitting there waiting for us before we ever started wandering or falling.

Death precariously hangs a few scant inches over our heads, having been methodically placed there one piece at a time by a lifetime of choices that we have made. And until we understand the gravity of what hangs but a breath away, we will not understand why Jesus hung on a cross to sweep it all away.

God did not wait for us to believe in ourselves before He acted out of His belief in us.

If we feel dead inside, it’s likely because we’ve been on a killing rampage most of our lives. But we must remember that God is on a resurrection rampage as well, and He’s bent on taking that rampage right to the center of everything inside of us that we killed.

Death is God’s opportunity, not our end.

It‘s utterly astounding that every time I get knocked down God’s mercy compassionately raises me to my feet; His grace thoroughly brushes off every trace of assorted filth I accumulated in the fall, His word precisely recalibrates my direction to insure the success of a journey resumed, and once all of that is completed He gently leans over and whispers, “How about another run?

If I can’t find something worthwhile in my own reflection, how am I ever going to see anything worthwhile in the face of another? Maybe I can solve all of this by seeing the face of Jesus in everyone, starting with myself.

Forgiveness brilliantly rewrites the script that we’ve penned to process the pain and betrayal of our histories. And while such a rewrite does not change history itself, it changes everything about our history.