Unforgiving Servant

Injustice: The Gratitude Snatcher

Injustice: The Gratitude Snatcher

I pray you had a blessed Thanksgiving. I hope your heart entered into this past week with a spirit of gratitude and that your time with friends, family, and God only heightened that gratitude.

No one wants to walk in ingratitude, and yet gratitude can be so quickly snatched from us.

What destroys thanksgiving? There are many threats: envy, pride, and selfishness. But one sneaky snatcher of gratitude is injustice. When the earth quake with injustice, its tremors rattle our hearts and our trust.

When we experience injustice, questions swirl: Why would God allow this wrong to happen? Doesn’t God care about me? Won’t the wrongdoer be punished? Won’t the victim receive restitution?

Our hearts cry out: but why God? When the solid ground beneath us breaks in the earthquake of injustice, we can be left feeling uncertain, shaken, and fearful. In this broken soil, gratitude can slip away.

When the people of Nineveh repent and God forgives them, Jonah is dismayed. How could a just God let the Ninevites off the hook? They were a city of “unceasing evil” (Nah. 3:19), filled with violence, cruelty, sexual debauchery, and idolatry. Jonah is indignant.

Forgiving Like a Child

Forgiving Like a Child

A transformation happened nearly every night we put our sweet foster boy down for bed. Minutes after the cherubic toddler was happily reading books with me, and seconds after he sweetly swayed in my arms as I sang to him, he transformed. The moment of metamorphosis occurred as I placed him in his crib. He would roll over and, with big tears rolling down his fat cheeks, wail. As I left the room and closed the door, he would stand in the crib, looking at me with pleading eyes. “How could you abandon me?” his eyes would ask.

The sun would set, the moon would rise and set, and the sun would rise again. I open his door to find him sleeping. I turn off the sound machine and open the window shade. He hikes up his cute bottom in the air, rolls over, pulls himself up, and greets me with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. I smile back and he giggles.

Forgiven.

Fast forward several hours, and a couple sits on my couch in my office. He can’t move past the fact that she won’t make love to him. She can’t move past the fact she caught him watching porn.[i]

Not forgiven.

The claws of unforgiveness are sharp and relentless.

Forgiveness Like a Child

Forgiveness Like a Child

Most every night a transformation happens right as our put our 20-month-old foster boy down to bed. Minutes after he is happily reading books with me and seconds after he is sweetly swaying in my arms as I sing to him, he transforms. The moment happens as I place him in his crib. He rolls over and, with big tears rolling down his fat cheeks, he wails. As I leave the room and close the door, he stands in the crib, looking at me with pleading eyes. “How could you abandon me?” his eyes ask.

The sun sets, the moon rises and sets, and the sun rises again. I open his door to find him sleeping. I turn off the sound machine and open the window shade. He hikes up his cute bottom in the air, rolls over, and pulls himself up and greets me with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. I smile back and he giggles.

Forgiven.

Fast forward several hours, and a couple sits on my couch in my office. He can’t move past the fact that she won’t make love to him. She can’t move past the fact she caught him watching porn.[i]

Not forgiven.

The claws of unforgiveness are sharp and relentless.