This Way to Joy
Have you ever had the experience where you were so filled with the Spirit that you felt like you could do anything? “Now Lamoni said unto Ammon: I know in the strength of the Lord thou canst do all things.” (Alma 20:4) I want to share one of my own experiences where the Lord enabled me to do something that was truly beyond my own ability.
Many years ago, I was deeply hurt by a woman in my ward. In fact, my whole family was maligned by things that she said and it cut me to the core. She didn’t know that I knew what she had said. I was filled with such anger and hurt – that I couldn’t even bear the thought of her.
One day it was brought to my attention by the still small voice, that, even though I had not done any wrong, that I was “the victim,” but because I did not forgive her – the greater sin was in me. You could probably imagine how much angrier it made me to have her evil doing put “innocent me” in the position of committing the greater sin! I was standing in danger of Christ’s judgment. I am required to forgive and yet I did not, I could not – it seemed completely beyond my ability.
I worked hard at it. I even felt I had forgiven her because I did not seek the vindication of confronting her. I was pleasant. I even did nice things for her. But then again, the spirit taught me that you can tell if you have truly forgiven someone by how you feel about that person when they walk into a room. Dagnabbit! I wasn’t there yet!! Whenever this woman would walk into the room I would bristle inside and wish for her to stay far away from me. Though outwardly I behaved as though I had forgiven her – in my heart I had not. This obstacle was still standing in the way of my salvation.
Truly forgiving her seemed beyond my conscious control. In truth, it was, I could not do it on a ‘soul’ level. I began to pray more fervently, “Help me to truly forgive her, Lord.” One day as I stepped out into the foyer during Sacrament meeting, I saw her sitting there on the couch. She didn’t see me and I kept walking straight into the ladies room. I said a prayer and when I came back out, I went and sat beside her on the couch. We talked, not about the incident but about life. She shared some of her sorrows and challenges and I was blessed with an outpouring of love for this woman. I was filled with joy. Whenever I saw her after that I felt such overwhelming love for her – not even the slightest hurt remained. The wrong was wiped away and love rushed in. She did not need my forgiveness. I needed to forgive and the forgiveness was for me.
I would like to share a well-known story to further illustrate this principle:
During WWII, Corey Tennboon’s family hid people from the Nazi regime. They were caught and sent to a concentration camp. There, Her father was exterminated and Corey watched her sister Betsy die a most painful death. Betsy, on her deathbed, made Corey promise that she would go when the war was over and spread the word that love was stronger than hate; and forgiveness must be the watchword. Those who were injured must forgive those who perpetrated the injury. Perhaps our greatest lesson was to learn to forgive.
Corey did not want to spread that word but she promised Betsy. And so she went about the countryside speaking to throngs of people about forgiveness and about moving on and planting seeds for the future.
One day while she was in Munich giving her speech she saw him, the very man who had stood guard at the camp and incarcerated her and her sister. She reported:
“It was at a church service that I saw him, the former SS man who had stood guard at the shower room in the processing center at Ravensbrook. He was the first of our actual jailers that I had seen since that time and suddenly, it was all there – the room full of mocking men, the heaps of clothing, Betsy’s pain-blanched face. He came up to me as the church was emptying, beaming and bowing.
‘How grateful I am for your message, Frauline. ‘ He said. ‘To think that, as you say, He (meaning the Savior) has washed my sins away.’
His hand was thrust out to shake mine and I, who had preached so often to the people of Bloomenthal, the need to forgive, kept my hand at my side. Even as the angry, vengeful thoughts boiled through me, I saw the sin of them. Jesus Christ had died for this man, was I going to ask for more?
“Lord, Jesus,“ I prayed, “forgive me and help me to forgive him.” I tried to smile. I struggled to raise my hand but I could not. I felt nothing, not the slightest spark of warmth or charity. And so again, I breathed a silent prayer, “Jesus, I cannot forgive him, give me your forgiveness. As I took his hand the most incredible thing happened – from my shoulder along my arm and through my hand, a current seemed to pass from me to him, while into my heart sprang a love for this stranger that almost overwhelmed me. And so I discovered that it is not our forgiveness, any more than it is our goodness, that the world's healing hinges but on His. When He tells us to love our enemies, He gives, along with the command, the love itself.” I have come to know, that Christ’s love will do what ours alone cannot. His love will break down all barriers and overcome all obstacles. He waits for us to come to Him and when we do, we will be changed; given strength beyond our natural abilities, our weakness will become strength, and we will know that “in the strength of the Lord we canst do all things (Alma 20:4).
-Gigi Grilikhes
