“Stop it!” was the message from President Dieter F. Uchtdorf at our most recent General Conference on the subject of judging, holding grudges, gossiping and an assortment of other unkind and unholy actions.
I would like to address one of the things he mentioned--the habit of holding grudges. I have always puzzled about how whether or not there was a way I could tell if I had forgiven someone. From the time I was a child, I heard about how once you were forgiven, God didn’t remember your sins.
Doctrine and Covenants 58:42
Behold, he who has repented of his sins, the same is forgiven, and I, the Lord, remember them no more.
As a result of this, I had always believed that if I remembered the wrongdoings of others, it must mean I had not forgiven them. I am a woman. We remember. Some of us are better at it than others, and I am a champion. In an Institute Courtship and Marriage Class the teacher once told the men “Women may forgive, but they never forget.”
I remember in Junior Sunday School when a boy made fun of me for saying the Sacrament Gem before the organist stopped playing the interlude.
I remember my devastation in kindergarten when I found out that the boy I secretly had a crush on liked a beautiful petite blond girl.
I remember my annoyance when I was in high school about to ask a boy to the girls’ dance and found out he liked that same even-more-beautiful petite blond girl.
I have over fifty years of “stuff” on the list. The guy who lied about having car trouble to get out of going to a dance with me when his friend scored tickets to a ballgame.Only three people came to my wedding shower. Two of them were the hosts. That woman on Goodreads who said something negative about one of my books. Holiday complaints include lame gifts and thoughtless attempts at celebration.
My husband, Thom, is a marriage and family therapist, and he has taught me a simple way to know if I have sufficiently let go of a hurt. I am very grateful for the insight, because it is a very concrete way to tell whether or not forgiveness and healing have taken place.
The way to tell is in the recounting of the event and the emotion surrounding it. This year it will be thirty years since my husband died in an accident. After that much time, if someone asks me what happened, I am able to discuss the details without bursting into tears or being harrowed up at the memory of it. I have healed from that event. It doesn’t mean I don’t remember it but it shows that the hurt is no longer front and center in my life.
Likewise, when any kind of emotional hurt is recent, there are usually strong emotions associated with it. It is in those critical first moments after a hurt that what we tell ourselves is important, because we often cling to those first pronouncements.
“I’ll never forgive him for that!”
“He should have known I look awful in yellow. How many times have I told him that? He doesn’t care enough to listen.”
“What does she know about struggling financially? She’s never had any trials.”
If we carry a grudge, we can still conjure up the anger or the hurt years later when we speak of it. If we can recount the event calmly and unemotionally, it is a sign that we have forgiven and healed. If we are reacting to past hurts as if they were recent, it is a sign we have not sufficiently let it go. If we have nursed a hurt and kept it alive, strong emotions will accompany any mention of the incident.
I have a friend who was recently chewed out by an acquaintance for something that happened over three years ago, something she thought was a bit of self-deprecating humor but that was taken personally by a sister from church who has apparently kept that pot stewing on the back burner. How many times did she recall those “hurtful” words to her mind? Every time she heard my friend’s name, did the flames ignite until she finally was unrestrained from going on attack?
Years ago I experienced anger from someone who was upset about something I had done, someone who was determined to take anything I did and twist it to the negative. Not believing I was in the wrong (because most of us never do), and realizing she was not going to deal respectfully with me, I simply refused to engage and hung up the phone. A few seconds later, the phone rang again. This was back in the day when we had an actual answering machine that sat on the nightstand next to the phone and I could hear the message as she left it.
“Pick up! Pick up! I know you’re there. I’m just going to keep calling and calling until you pick up!”
Before she could call back, I pushed the button to record a new message. Our former message said something like “We’re sorry we missed your call . . .” So I recorded a new message. “I’d like to say we’re sorry we missed your call, but sometimes we’re not sorry . . .”
That may not have been the kindest thing for me to do, but it was what it took for me to let go of it. Instead of getting angry, I found myself chuckling to myself as she got more and more angry with each message she left. Unfortunately, there were no winners in that war, and a lot of innocent people were caught in the crossfire. And I had a front row seat to watch what happens when you do not let go of past hurts, real or imagined.
When we are on attack or under attack, a lot of unhealthy processes take place in our bodies. Studies have also shown that when we relive something, our bodies cannot tell the difference between the real and imagined event. We flood our body with damaging stress hormones every time we relive the emotions of a hurt.
So let’s revisit something from my list, something fairly benign. Most of my friends got married at twenty or twenty-one. By the time I got married at age twenty-five, they had all moved out of the neighborhood, had already started their families and had busy lives. I was hurt when none of them made the effort to come to my wedding shower in the old neighborhood, especially since I had thrown showers for many of them, but to this day I don’t know whether it was a child with the flu or a car in the shop or some other extenuating circumstance that kept any one of them away.At the time, I felt deeply hurt. When no one showed up, it felt like my friends didn’t care about me.
And yet over the years every one of those friends who did not attend my wedding shower have shown love to me in countless other ways, especially after my husband’s accident. I could have chosen to nurse that hurt and could have been on the lookout for other slights to confirm my suspicion, ignoring anything on the positive side of the ledger. Some people make this a fine art and take joy in being the victim. Instead, I chose to believe that my friends care about me and chose to focus on the evidence that supports that theory. Sure, there were probably some of them who didn’t have a good excuse, who thought it was too far to drive, but I can imagine a good excuse for them and err on the side of charity. Oftentimes we have dueling responsibilities and have to make difficult choices between being a good mother and a good friend or a good husband and a diligent employee. Charitable people and true friends understand that there are often other things that win out in the hierarchy of duties. There is always an opportunity for charity to rule our thinking when we come to the conclusions about why people make the choices they do.
When we are faced with a potentially hurtful event, we can pause, take a deep breath, and tap into the “charity center” in our brain. If there is more than one way something can be taken, go for the most positive of the two. I created a character in a book,who, whenever her children or husband disappoint her, begins with the words “It’s not like you . . .”
“It’s not like you not to call if you’re going to be late.”
“It’s not like you to leave a mess in the kitchen.”
“It’s not like you to tease your sister.”
Her charity is given first, the gentle reprimand following. “You’ve done something that disappointed me, but I am separating that deed from who I choose to believe you are.”
It is not my default to look on the bright side, and give people the benefit of the doubt, but I realize it’s a choice and that the more often I make it, the more it becomes second nature.
Sometimes a comparison is made between relationships and a bank account, with deposits for good things and withdrawals for mistakes. Some banks offer overdraft protection. We should offer that to our friends and loved ones. Sometimes if we cover for someone, even when they are at fault, they realize it and make a greater effort to do better. If we get signs that an account over which we have stewardship is dangerously low, we should hurry and make a deposit. I believe it is called “showing forth an increase of love.”
When my son was tiny, he had heard the words “stop it” so often that I would sometimes hear him, as he was about to engage in a little bit of mischief, saying “top it” to himself. We all need to hear the words “stop it!” ring loudly in our ears next time we jump to a negative conclusion about someone else’s behavior or find ourselves revisiting an old hurt.
Sometimes slights and hurts are so very real and intentional that no amount of positive thinking or spiritual airbrushing can convince us otherwise. At those times, we can still govern our reactions and discipline ourselves not to respond in kind. Once I found myself wondering if anyone had ever “despitefully used me or persecuted me.” I realized that I did have an example of that, the recipient of my aforementioned not-so-sweet answering machine message. I tried to reframe even that and tell myself that it wasn’t very often that someone was so deliberately unkind that it gave me such an opportunity to be Christlike. I would love to be able to say that I accomplished that lofty goal at every opportunity in my interactions with her. What I can say is as a result of that mindset I succeeded more often than I failed.
Sometimes I beat myself up over the failures, and I need to “stop that” as well, because one of the people I am instructed to forgive is that woman in the mirror. If I hadn’t also been cautioned about gossip, I could tell you a thing or two about her!
Susan’s columns are now available in two compilations called “A Beacon Light” and “Running the River of Life.” They are available as ebooks and paperbacks are available by contacting the author at susancorpany@aol.com
“Stop it!” was the message from President Dieter F. Uchtdorf at our most recent General Conference on the subject of judging, holding grudges, gossiping and an assortment of other unkind and unholy actions.
I would like to address one of the things he mentioned--the habit of holding grudges. I have always puzzled about how whether or not there was a way I could tell if I had forgiven someone. From the time I was a child, I heard about how once you were forgiven, God didn’t remember your sins.
Doctrine and Covenants 58:42
Behold, he who has repented of his sins, the same is forgiven, and I, the Lord, remember them no more.
As a result of this, I had always believed that if I remembered the wrongdoings of others, it must mean I had not forgiven them. I am a woman. We remember. Some of us are better at it than others, and I am a champion. In an Institute Courtship and Marriage Class the teacher once told the men “Women may forgive, but they never forget.”
I remember in Junior Sunday School when a boy made fun of me for saying the Sacrament Gem before the organist stopped playing the interlude.
I remember my devastation in kindergarten when I found out that the boy I secretly had a crush on liked a beautiful petite blond girl.
I remember my annoyance when I was in high school about to ask a boy to the girls’ dance and found out he liked that same even-more-beautiful petite blond girl.
I have over fifty years of “stuff” on the list. The guy who lied about having car trouble to get out of going to a dance with me when his friend scored tickets to a ballgame.Only three people came to my wedding shower. Two of them were the hosts. That woman on Goodreads who said something negative about one of my books. Holiday complaints include lame gifts and thoughtless attempts at celebration.
My husband, Thom, is a marriage and family therapist, and he has taught me a simple way to know if I have sufficiently let go of a hurt. I am very grateful for the insight, because it is a very concrete way to tell whether or not forgiveness and healing have taken place.
The way to tell is in the recounting of the event and the emotion surrounding it. This year it will be thirty years since my husband died in an accident. After that much time, if someone asks me what happened, I am able to discuss the details without bursting into tears or being harrowed up at the memory of it. I have healed from that event. It doesn’t mean I don’t remember it but it shows that the hurt is no longer front and center in my life.
Likewise, when any kind of emotional hurt is recent, there are usually strong emotions associated with it. It is in those critical first moments after a hurt that what we tell ourselves is important, because we often cling to those first pronouncements.
“I’ll never forgive him for that!”
“He should have known I look awful in yellow. How many times have I told him that? He doesn’t care enough to listen.”
“What does she know about struggling financially? She’s never had any trials.”
If we carry a grudge, we can still conjure up the anger or the hurt years later when we speak of it. If we can recount the event calmly and unemotionally, it is a sign that we have forgiven and healed. If we are reacting to past hurts as if they were recent, it is a sign we have not sufficiently let it go. If we have nursed a hurt and kept it alive, strong emotions will accompany any mention of the incident.
I have a friend who was recently chewed out by an acquaintance for something that happened over three years ago, something she thought was a bit of self-deprecating humor but that was taken personally by a sister from church who has apparently kept that pot stewing on the back burner. How many times did she recall those “hurtful” words to her mind? Every time she heard my friend’s name, did the flames ignite until she finally was unrestrained from going on attack?
Years ago I experienced anger from someone who was upset about something I had done, someone who was determined to take anything I did and twist it to the negative. Not believing I was in the wrong (because most of us never do), and realizing she was not going to deal respectfully with me, I simply refused to engage and hung up the phone. A few seconds later, the phone rang again. This was back in the day when we had an actual answering machine that sat on the nightstand next to the phone and I could hear the message as she left it.
“Pick up! Pick up! I know you’re there. I’m just going to keep calling and calling until you pick up!”
Before she could call back, I pushed the button to record a new message. Our former message said something like “We’re sorry we missed your call . . .” So I recorded a new message. “I’d like to say we’re sorry we missed your call, but sometimes we’re not sorry . . .”
That may not have been the kindest thing for me to do, but it was what it took for me to let go of it. Instead of getting angry, I found myself chuckling to myself as she got more and more angry with each message she left. Unfortunately, there were no winners in that war, and a lot of innocent people were caught in the crossfire. And I had a front row seat to watch what happens when you do not let go of past hurts, real or imagined.
When we are on attack or under attack, a lot of unhealthy processes take place in our bodies. Studies have also shown that when we relive something, our bodies cannot tell the difference between the real and imagined event. We flood our body with damaging stress hormones every time we relive the emotions of a hurt.
So let’s revisit something from my list, something fairly benign. Most of my friends got married at twenty or twenty-one. By the time I got married at age twenty-five, they had all moved out of the neighborhood, had already started their families and had busy lives. I was hurt when none of them made the effort to come to my wedding shower in the old neighborhood, especially since I had thrown showers for many of them, but to this day I don’t know whether it was a child with the flu or a car in the shop or some other extenuating circumstance that kept any one of them away.At the time, I felt deeply hurt. When no one showed up, it felt like my friends didn’t care about me.
And yet over the years every one of those friends who did not attend my wedding shower have shown love to me in countless other ways, especially after my husband’s accident. I could have chosen to nurse that hurt and could have been on the lookout for other slights to confirm my suspicion, ignoring anything on the positive side of the ledger. Some people make this a fine art and take joy in being the victim. Instead, I chose to believe that my friends care about me and chose to focus on the evidence that supports that theory. Sure, there were probably some of them who didn’t have a good excuse, who thought it was too far to drive, but I can imagine a good excuse for them and err on the side of charity. Oftentimes we have dueling responsibilities and have to make difficult choices between being a good mother and a good friend or a good husband and a diligent employee. Charitable people and true friends understand that there are often other things that win out in the hierarchy of duties. There is always an opportunity for charity to rule our thinking when we come to the conclusions about why people make the choices they do.
When we are faced with a potentially hurtful event, we can pause, take a deep breath, and tap into the “charity center” in our brain. If there is more than one way something can be taken, go for the most positive of the two. I created a character in a book,who, whenever her children or husband disappoint her, begins with the words “It’s not like you . . .”
“It’s not like you not to call if you’re going to be late.”
“It’s not like you to leave a mess in the kitchen.”
“It’s not like you to tease your sister.”
Her charity is given first, the gentle reprimand following. “You’ve done something that disappointed me, but I am separating that deed from who I choose to believe you are.”
It is not my default to look on the bright side, and give people the benefit of the doubt, but I realize it’s a choice and that the more often I make it, the more it becomes second nature.
Sometimes a comparison is made between relationships and a bank account, with deposits for good things and withdrawals for mistakes. Some banks offer overdraft protection. We should offer that to our friends and loved ones. Sometimes if we cover for someone, even when they are at fault, they realize it and make a greater effort to do better. If we get signs that an account over which we have stewardship is dangerously low, we should hurry and make a deposit. I believe it is called “showing forth an increase of love.”
When my son was tiny, he had heard the words “stop it” so often that I would sometimes hear him, as he was about to engage in a little bit of mischief, saying “top it” to himself. We all need to hear the words “stop it!” ring loudly in our ears next time we jump to a negative conclusion about someone else’s behavior or find ourselves revisiting an old hurt.
Sometimes slights and hurts are so very real and intentional that no amount of positive thinking or spiritual airbrushing can convince us otherwise. At those times, we can still govern our reactions and discipline ourselves not to respond in kind. Once I found myself wondering if anyone had ever “despitefully used me or persecuted me.” I realized that I did have an example of that, the recipient of my aforementioned not-so-sweet answering machine message. I tried to reframe even that and tell myself that it wasn’t very often that someone was so deliberately unkind that it gave me such an opportunity to be Christlike. I would love to be able to say that I accomplished that lofty goal at every opportunity in my interactions with her. What I can say is as a result of that mindset I succeeded more often than I failed.
Sometimes I beat myself up over the failures, and I need to “stop that” as well, because one of the people I am instructed to forgive is that woman in the mirror. If I hadn’t also been cautioned about gossip, I could tell you a thing or two about her!
Susan’s columns are now available in two compilations called “A Beacon Light” and “Running the River of Life.” They are available as ebooks and paperbacks are available by contacting the author at susancorpany@aol.com
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“Stop it!” was the message from President Dieter F. Uchtdorf at our most recent General Conference on the subject of judging, holding grudges, gossiping and an assortment of other unkind and unholy actions.
I would like to address one of the things he mentioned--the habit of holding grudges. I have always puzzled about how whether or not there was a way I could tell if I had forgiven someone. From the time I was a child, I heard about how once you were forgiven, God didn’t remember your sins.
Doctrine and Covenants 58:42
Behold, he who has repented of his sins, the same is forgiven, and I, the Lord, remember them no more.
As a result of this, I had always believed that if I remembered the wrongdoings of others, it must mean I had not forgiven them. I am a woman. We remember. Some of us are better at it than others, and I am a champion. In an Institute Courtship and Marriage Class the teacher once told the men “Women may forgive, but they never forget.”
I remember in Junior Sunday School when a boy made fun of me for saying the Sacrament Gem before the organist stopped playing the interlude.
I remember my devastation in kindergarten when I found out that the boy I secretly had a crush on liked a beautiful petite blond girl.
I remember my annoyance when I was in high school about to ask a boy to the girls’ dance and found out he liked that same even-more-beautiful petite blond girl.
I have over fifty years of “stuff” on the list. The guy who lied about having car trouble to get out of going to a dance with me when his friend scored tickets to a ballgame.Only three people came to my wedding shower. Two of them were the hosts. That woman on Goodreads who said something negative about one of my books. Holiday complaints include lame gifts and thoughtless attempts at celebration.
My husband, Thom, is a marriage and family therapist, and he has taught me a simple way to know if I have sufficiently let go of a hurt. I am very grateful for the insight, because it is a very concrete way to tell whether or not forgiveness and healing have taken place.
The way to tell is in the recounting of the event and the emotion surrounding it. This year it will be thirty years since my husband died in an accident. After that much time, if someone asks me what happened, I am able to discuss the details without bursting into tears or being harrowed up at the memory of it. I have healed from that event. It doesn’t mean I don’t remember it but it shows that the hurt is no longer front and center in my life.
Likewise, when any kind of emotional hurt is recent, there are usually strong emotions associated with it. It is in those critical first moments after a hurt that what we tell ourselves is important, because we often cling to those first pronouncements.
“I’ll never forgive him for that!”
“He should have known I look awful in yellow. How many times have I told him that? He doesn’t care enough to listen.”
“What does she know about struggling financially? She’s never had any trials.”
If we carry a grudge, we can still conjure up the anger or the hurt years later when we speak of it. If we can recount the event calmly and unemotionally, it is a sign that we have forgiven and healed. If we are reacting to past hurts as if they were recent, it is a sign we have not sufficiently let it go. If we have nursed a hurt and kept it alive, strong emotions will accompany any mention of the incident.
I have a friend who was recently chewed out by an acquaintance for something that happened over three years ago, something she thought was a bit of self-deprecating humor but that was taken personally by a sister from church who has apparently kept that pot stewing on the back burner. How many times did she recall those “hurtful” words to her mind? Every time she heard my friend’s name, did the flames ignite until she finally was unrestrained from going on attack?
Years ago I experienced anger from someone who was upset about something I had done, someone who was determined to take anything I did and twist it to the negative. Not believing I was in the wrong (because most of us never do), and realizing she was not going to deal respectfully with me, I simply refused to engage and hung up the phone. A few seconds later, the phone rang again. This was back in the day when we had an actual answering machine that sat on the nightstand next to the phone and I could hear the message as she left it.
“Pick up! Pick up! I know you’re there. I’m just going to keep calling and calling until you pick up!”
Before she could call back, I pushed the button to record a new message. Our former message said something like “We’re sorry we missed your call . . .” So I recorded a new message. “I’d like to say we’re sorry we missed your call, but sometimes we’re not sorry . . .”
That may not have been the kindest thing for me to do, but it was what it took for me to let go of it. Instead of getting angry, I found myself chuckling to myself as she got more and more angry with each message she left. Unfortunately, there were no winners in that war, and a lot of innocent people were caught in the crossfire. And I had a front row seat to watch what happens when you do not let go of past hurts, real or imagined.
When we are on attack or under attack, a lot of unhealthy processes take place in our bodies. Studies have also shown that when we relive something, our bodies cannot tell the difference between the real and imagined event. We flood our body with damaging stress hormones every time we relive the emotions of a hurt.
So let’s revisit something from my list, something fairly benign. Most of my friends got married at twenty or twenty-one. By the time I got married at age twenty-five, they had all moved out of the neighborhood, had already started their families and had busy lives. I was hurt when none of them made the effort to come to my wedding shower in the old neighborhood, especially since I had thrown showers for many of them, but to this day I don’t know whether it was a child with the flu or a car in the shop or some other extenuating circumstance that kept any one of them away.
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