Forgiving oneself: the hardest one to forgive

I have committed a wrong against my wife. I kept a secret from her for several years. When it came to light, I lied about it. The secret was financial - not anything really newsworthy.

The pain we both experienced as a result of this sin, however, is newsworthy.

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A man I once respected told me that the secret to a good marriage was sincerity. “Once you can fake that, you've got it made!”. Well, I tried it. It worked until about a month ago, when I finally confessed my sin and tried to figure out how to make things right.

The reaction I received to my confession was worse than I could have imagined. I had hurt her. I had hurt her bad. And it didn't look like our marriage would survive.

Time went on, though, and she did forgive me. She was still angry, but she did forgive me. That was a huge weight to be lifted. Our marriage would survive, and my children would still live in a two-parent household.

But the hardest forgiveness to receive wasn't from her, or even (if you read Romans 8) from our Heavenly Father. The hardest forgiveness to receive was from myself. I was - and am still to a degree - unable to forgive myself for the pain I had inflicted upon my dear wife. Last night, I confessed my love to her in words I had never used before. Last night, after she let me know that she would likely never be able to trust me again, I explained that the very act that took away her ability to trust me was the same act that meant I would never do anything to destroy that trust again. In other words, she would not be able to trust me because I had broken that trust. The knowledge of the pain I had caused would prevent me from ever breaking that trust again.

My wife had forgiven me. My God had forgiven me. But I could still not forgive myself.

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The last week of the year, our church always holds a prayer service to purge the wrongs of the previous year and ask for blessings on the coming year. During the time of confession, I found myself sobbing uncontrollably. Several pairs of hands were place on my shoulders then removed. The last pair of hands were the giant, gentle hands of our preaching minister. I got up and prayed with him, asking him how I could forgive myself for what I had done. He said, as so many had throughout history, that the person hardest to forgive is ourself. Through steady prayer and asking God to help me move on, I have arrived at a place where I can face the future. But I'm still holding some of the burden from my sin.

Gentle readers (the two or three that may be remaining), I ask you - how do you forgive yourself when you have wronged someone dear to you? Some of the scriptures I've been reading: Psalm 51, Romans 8, 2 Corinthians 2 and 1 John.

I'm still working on it. My appetite has returned, and I'm finally beginning to do well at my new job. But I still cry when I sing or read about forgiveness, or when I hear about someone in a similar situation.

Adios,
Clay

(äd-s) [Spanish adiós, probably translated from French à dieu. (I commend you) to God  : a, to (from Latin ad. See ad-) + Dieu, God (from Latin deus. See dyeu- in Indo-European Roots).]