Eating the Cheerios

October 22, 2015

“People, in general, would rather die than forgive. It’s that hard.”

—Sue Monk Kidd

There are a handful of people on the planet who hate me.  Hey, there could me more than a handful.  But the confirmed cases could definitely fill up a hand.  I’m not a big fan of the word “hate” or the emotion. But sometimes it is what it is.  

The thing is, I deserve plenty of contempt from a variety of directions.  I’m made mistakes, I’ve opened my big mouth too many times, I’ve hurt them or someone they love, I live my life differently than they do or deem acceptable.  I can be terribly cynical, critical, sarcastic. My favorite hobby is to make fun of people.  (And only part of the time is it malicious.) These are not endearing qualities.  Well, they can be.  But not all the time, and especially not to the handful.

I know my shortcomings intimately and I know how deeply flawed I am.  In some cases I’ve asked for forgiveness.  In some I’ve hoped for it.  In some cases I’ve tried to “be better” or “do better.” In some cases I’ve given up completely out of broken-hearted despair and the realization that nothing I could ever do will make it better.  I shat in my cheerios, so to speak, and I will have to eat them…forever.

I can’t come up with a tidy end to this nugget.  I suppose that’s fitting:  without forgiveness there is no tidy answer to the brokenness.  I just wish…I really do wish…there could be.

“People have to forgive. We don't have to like them, we don't have to be friends with them, we don't have to send them hearts in text messages, but we have to forgive them, to overlook, to forget. Because if we don't we are tying rocks to our feet, too much for our wings to carry!” 
― C. JoyBell C.