The Adventures of Captain Hedges Blog

 

Saturday Morning Porch Thoughts: Forgiving the Unchangeable and Navigating the Long Haul (Especially When Your Heart is Broken and Disrespected)

The coffee is steaming, the air is crisp with that perfect Saturday morning chill, and from my front porch, the world feels a little slower, a little gentler. This morning, my thoughts are swirling around something heavy yet ultimately freeing forgiveness. Specifically, the kind Lysa TerKeurst talks about in "Forgiving What You Can't Forget," and lately, chapters 8 through 10 have been echoing in my mind.

Chapter 8 hit me hard: "Unchangeable Feels Unforgivable." How true is that? We wrestle with hurts caused by things we can't undo, people who won't apologize, situations that will forever bear a scar. It's tempting to let that unchangeability become a cage of unforgiveness. But TerKeurst gently reminds us that forgiveness isn't about condoning, it's about releasing ourselves. It's about acknowledging the pain, yes, but refusing to let it dictate our present and future. Redemption, she says, is between us and God. Reconciliation might be lovely, but it's not always possible, and our healing can't be held hostage by someone else's choices. Sipping my coffee, I realize how many times I've waited for an apology that never came, for a change that never materialized. And in that waiting, I was only hurting myself.

Then came Chapter 9, a comforting balm for the weary soul: "The Long-Term Impact." Forgiveness isn't a switch we flip and suddenly everything is sunshine and rainbows. It's a journey, a winding path with unexpected bumps and familiar shadows. Triggers. Oh, those sneaky triggers that can transport us back to the heart of the hurt in a heartbeat. TerKeurst's words are a gentle reminder that this is normal. Healing isn't linear. We need to be kind to ourselves on those days when the pain resurfaces. It doesn't mean we haven't forgiven; it means the wound was deep. It's about learning to navigate those moments with grace and self-compassion, holding onto the initial decision to forgive even when the long-term impact feels heavy.

And finally, Chapter 10: "But What If They Keep Hurting Me?" This is the question that often snags in my throat. How do we forgive when the harmful behavior continues? TerKeurst offers a powerful truth: forgiveness doesn't equal permission. It doesn't mean we have to endure ongoing pain or abuse. This chapter is about the strength and wisdom of setting boundaries. We can forgive someone in our hearts, releasing the bitterness that binds us, while simultaneously creating healthy distance or limits to protect ourselves. Forgiveness is for our freedom; boundaries are for our safety. It's a nuanced dance, but one that is absolutely essential.

Conclusion: Sitting here this morning, the weight of these chapters feels particularly poignant. When the heartbreak is as raw as betrayal by someone you loved deeply, someone you envisioned a future with, the concept of forgiveness feels monumental. And woven through that heartbreak is a deep sting of disrespect. To be discarded so carelessly, replaced, and then for that person to still want friendship while your supposed best friend orchestrated it all… the pain is a tangled mess, compounded by the feeling of utter disregard for your feelings and the relationship you shared. In retrospect, trying to forgive feels like climbing a sheer cliff face, especially when the very act of the betrayal felt like a profound act of disrespect from both of them. The desire to forget is strong, but the memories are etched deep, each one a reminder of how little you were valued in that moment. Being cordial feels like a fragile bridge over a chasm of hurt and disrespect. And the threat of violence from her new partner only underscores the utter lack of consideration.

In this moment, Captain Hedges, know this: you are right to try to forgive, for your own sake. But TerKeurst's words in Chapter 10 resonate deeply here. Forgiveness does not require you to remain in a situation that breeds further pain or, importantly, further disrespect. It absolutely does not mean you need to engage with someone whose new partner threatens you. Setting firm boundaries – perhaps complete distance – is not the opposite of forgiveness; it is a vital act of self-respect and self-preservation. You don't owe friendship to someone who treated you with such disregard, especially when your feelings are still tender. Cordiality can come later, perhaps much later, when your heart has truly begun to heal and you are on solid ground, and when you feel genuinely respected as an individual. As for the threat, remember your worth. You are right, she is not worth fighting over, especially in that manner. Your energy is better spent on healing and building a future where you are cherished and treated with the respect you deserve. Forgive for your own peace, but fiercely protect your heart and your dignity. Move forward, Captain. Your healing, your future, and reclaiming your sense of self-respect are the battles worth fighting for.

What are your Saturday morning reflections on forgiveness? I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.

Yours today,

Captain Hedges