God Has Forgotten

Forgive and forget. 

Two of the hardest words in the English language. We don't like to forgive, especially when someone is not truly sorry and has made no move toward atonement, and we certainly can't forget. 

Recently, I went to a 100-year celebration for my former elementary school. While hanging out and talking with friends and old acquaintances, this young woman came up to me and said she recognized me, but couldn't place me. I introduced myself, and she immediately got a little more excited. "Yes!" she said. "I remember you!" She went on to introduce herself, including her maiden name, and I remembered her, too. 

"You used to torment me and beat me up all the time," I said, matter-of-factly. It had been more than two decades since I had seen, or even really thought about, this woman who was once my bully, but the mere mention of her name brought all of it back. Here she stood right in front of me, seemingly excited to see me, successful in the world's eyes, and all I could think about her was who she used to be, a collection of scenes that are still stuck somewhere in my memory, ready to be recalled, apparently, at a moment's notice.

We don't forget very well. 

The same is true when it comes to our own transgressions, as well.

I have had moments in my life that have haunted me for years, times that I messed up or made mistakes or had to be corrected, and they've just stuck with me. I'm the kind of person who wants to apologize for the same moment every time I see you for the rest of my life, even if we just run into each other in the grocery store. "Oh my gosh - how are you? I am so sorry about that time that I...." 

But you know what? So often, when I bring up these moments that haunt me, the other person doesn't remember them at all. They've long forgotten about what I thought was the biggest blunder ever made in the history of the world. While I've been having nightmares about how much I wounded them and how desperately I wish I could take it back, they've moved on and sometimes, they didn't even know what I said. 

And yet, I cannot forget. And I spend far too long beating myself up for things the rest of the world has long since moved on from. 

Enter the Lord, whose grace and forgiveness humble me every time I remember them. 

In Hebrews 10:17, the Holy Spirit is speaking and He says, "Their sins and lawless acts, I will remember no more." 

Gone. Done. Finished. The sins and transgressions and goof-ups and mistakes that God sent His Son to the Cross to atone for have not just been forgiven, they've been forgotten. 

Which means two things: it means that the things that I keep beating myself up for are not even in God's memory any more...and it means that the things I cannot forget about others, like my bully, aren't there, either. He's forgotten them, too. 

And if God, who is the party most offended and most wounded by our transgressions, who is most crushed by our iniquities, has forgiven and forgotten, then how much more should I work on doing the same?