My husband, Pete, and I once belonged to a Bible study group where conflict arose between us and a teacher. This conflict began after we became leaders of a certain ministry within the group.
Eventually, Pete met with this teacher for lunch to discuss the more than difficult situation. But, unfortunately, nothing was resolved over lunch. Nothing could be agreed upon, and the tension between us persisted.
Unforgiveness within Pete and me eventually bore the fruit of bitterness. That bitterness eventually consumed our minds . . . and conversations. For weeks, we were angry, hurt, sad, and confused. The situation did not make any sense to us.
One day, Pete and I were driving somewhere when we realized we needed to stop and get some cash. Pete drove to the nearest grocery store, and I waited in the car while he ran in.
While waiting, I spotted a guy and probably his son walking in the parking lot towards the store’s main doors. The dad walked ahead as the little boy lagged behind. At the entrance, the dad entered the store alone. When the son got to the doors, he pushed and pushed on a different door, but it wouldn't open. The dad noticed him stuck outside and, from the inside of the store, he pointed at the correct door for him to enter. When the boy stood before that door, it automatically opened for him. Initially, he had been pushing on the wrong door.
If I continued hanging on to my bitterness, I would be like the son who was pushing on the wrong door: stuck. I would become spiritually stuck...How beautiful is the door of forgiveness.
Still waiting for Pete to return, the bitterness toward the Bible study teacher surfaced in my mind. I sensed God was teaching me the following lesson through the scene which had just unfolded before me: if I continued hanging on to my bitterness, I would be like the son who was pushing on the wrong door: stuck. I would become spiritually stuck.
God was teaching me a sobering lesson, and I immediately sensed what I needed to do. I needed to confess my bitterness and surrender the difficult situation to God—my questions, my hurt, and more. I had to open my hands, let things go, and swallow any pride. I also needed to ask for God’s help in forgiving the teacher.
Over time, the cords of bitterness were severed. Free, I was able to enter through the door leading to the joy of the Lord. No longer was I stuck on the outside pushing on the wrong door (of bitterness) . . . unable to move forward in my walk of faith.
I will never forget the dad, his son, and the lesson God taught me through them. How beautiful is the door of forgiveness. Beautiful indeed!
