Cursor hovering over the “send” button, I hesitated, scanning the email again. Sighing, I took my hand off the mouse, praying for the hundredth time that my friend would be able to hear my heart. I was afraid that seeing my name as sender might make her refuse to read it at all.
Two years earlier, we had experienced a crisis in our friendship. I agonized, sought wise counsel, and expressed my opinions as clearly and lovingly as I could. Ultimately I chose to support her, but our relationship never recovered. After graduation, I went to Asia to teach English, and a silence yawned between us.
In the city where I taught, I met an older woman who challenged my understanding of forgiveness and reconciliation. One thing she said stood out: “It’s not about what you think you did or didn’t do wrong; it’s what hurt the other person that you apologize for.” I had felt so justified in my actions and responses, but now I realized there must have been things I said or did in my self-righteousness that were hurtful to my friend.
In the email, I listed the actions and attitudes the Holy Spirit showed me may have been hurtful. “I’m so sorry,” I wrote. “Will you forgive me?”
Palms sweating, I finally clicked “send.” My stomach lurched as the email flew toward her inbox. It had been more than two years since we’d spoken. I waited with bated breath for her response.
What is lost when trust is broken? What would I gain in renewing the friendship? A broken relationship can feel like a kind of death. My friend and I had been so close that the hurt and widening distance between us produced a listless emptiness in my heart and a sick churning in my stomach. My body felt tired and heavy, and extra tension in my neck and shoulders made sleep difficult.
Now, two years later, I had grown used to the distance, but I missed her. I missed her practical wisdom, her matter-of-fact approach to life. I missed her sense of humor and the relaxed closeness we had from knowing each other so well. Waiting on tenterhooks for her response, I hoped for the relief of her forgiveness, as well as clarity on what I did that was hurtful. Maybe there would be a deeper acceptance of one another, a fresh enjoyment of each other’s company after pain had been resolved and overcome.
If we are following Christ, God’s will for us is unmistakable. Forgive. Seek reconciliation. “As far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone” (Romans 12.18, NIV). But without help from the Holy Spirit, this often feels impossible. Can’t you just hear Joseph’s thoughts in the story in Genesis? Unfair! So unfair! First, I get sold into slavery by my own brothers, and now I’m falsely accused and thrown into prison when I was doing my best to serve my new master! God, where are you? How could you let them do this to me?
We need many things from God in order to be able to reconcile with someone who has hurt us deeply. (There is a difference between a broken relationship and an abusive situation where the victim did not contribute to what happened to them—that’s not what I’m addressing here.) In the case of a strained relationship, we firstly need God to give us self-awareness so we can see our personal contribution (because even if it’s only 2 percent, I am fully responsible for my 2 percent). As long as I am consumed with others’ actions, I will find it difficult to search my own heart. I need humility. I need the grace “not to think of [myself] more highly than [I] ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned” (Romans 12.3, ESV).
David pleaded with God, “Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting” (Psalm 139.23–24, NIV).
Then, we need the willingness to leave justice to our just God. “Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: ‘It is mine to avenge; I will repay,’ says the Lord” (Romans 12.19, NIV). We need the strength to forgive, which can only be accessed as the Holy Spirit makes us more and more aware of how much we ourselves have been forgiven (Ephesians 4.32).
The desire to reconcile often doesn’t spring up naturally, either. Many times I am more than willing to let the distance lengthen. The impulse to move toward someone who hurt me usually has to come from God, as well as the courage to not only examine my own life but also to tell the other person truthfully how their actions affected me.
When we do resolve to tell the truth, we need wisdom, the ability to manage our emotions, and a spirit of gentleness. “Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted” (Galatians 6.1, ESV). And we need love. Lots of it. “Above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony” (Colossians 3.14, ESV).
There is a difference between reconciliation—the process of asking for and receiving forgiveness for hurt caused—and restoring trust. Reconciliation works best if each person intentionally considers their own contribution, and chooses to extend a genuine apology and request forgiveness in a way that demonstrates a posture of self-awareness, humility, and desire to change. The process of rebuilding trust after reconciliation, however, takes careful consideration and can require several stages, like the story of Joseph.
Joseph’s tumultuous relationship with his brothers offers proof that God uses even people’s sins for His good purposes, but it also shows us a pattern for the process of renewing trust. Actions that betrayed and caused hurt were followed by a span of time and distance. During that time, each party had the choice whether to nurture a grudge or cultivate forgiveness, to search their heart for their own contribution, however small, or stubbornly blame the entire situation on the other party.
When in God’s time an opportunity to reconcile eventuated, the season of separation had resulted in natural boundaries which created space to assess whether growth had happened, and to evaluate motivations. The injured party searched for signs of regret and heart change, while the ones who caused hurt had the opportunity to demonstrate genuine sorrow, repentance, and growth.
Eventually, when the hurt party was reassured that true regret and heart change had taken place, it became safe again to communicate on a heart level. Mutual sorrow and regret was expressed, along with a desire on both sides to renew the relationship. At the end of this process, Joseph was able to open his arms and his heart to a new relationship with his brothers.
When trust has been broken, even if there is an opportunity to reconcile, the restored relationship will almost always look different than before. Realizations about ourselves, the other person, and even the original nature of the friendship can affect how we decide to approach a possible renewal.
A relationship that is restored after serious hurt can be deeper, more mature, and more resilient from having been broken and mended. But not always. When someone has caused hurt who is not following Christ or is unwilling to change, the situation is more complicated. It is wise and appropriate to put healthy boundaries in place with people who have wronged us and have not demonstrated self-awareness, repentance, or a willingness to change. There are times when it is right to extend forgiveness, but withhold trust.
After two days of holding my breath, I received a reply from my friend. She thanked me for reaching out, and said she was praying about how to respond. In her next email, she shared more deeply. The most hurtful thing wasn’t actually any of the things I had listed (speaking my mind too forcefully, harboring judgmental thoughts in my heart, etc.). She felt I had broken her trust when I initially sought wise counsel about how to respond to our friendship crisis. I had truly felt I needed input, but she had felt betrayed. Her honest sharing gave me deeper insight and opened the door for me to apologize again, this time for the main thing that was hurtful. I still felt there was nothing else I could have done at the time, but I finally understood why my actions had hurt her so much. From that point on, we began to rebuild our friendship, and more than twenty years later we are still close.
As we approach together the awkward, necessary, and rewarding work of seeking reconciliation, I offer this prayer from my own heart:
Lord, help me not to harbor grudges or bitterness in my heart against people who have hurt me intentionally or unintentionally. Open me up to the possibility of forgiving them, as I realize how thoroughly I myself have been forgiven. Help me see my own contribution, no matter how small, and take full responsibility. I rely on You for the grace to look honestly at my own life, and for the wisdom and courage to lovingly and truthfully share with others how their actions affect me. As far as it depends on me, show me how to live at peace with everyone. Amen.
The featured image, “Southern Charm Verbascum,” is courtesy of Lancia E. Smith and is used with her glad permission for Cultivating.
A writer, songwriter, and amateur music producer, Carolyn holds a Bachelor of Music from Wheaton College, where she pursued her twin passions for music and spiritual formation. Living overseas for the past twenty years has given her a keen interest in the connections between the inner life, the craft of making, and the art of sojourning, especially how tending her own soul affects her ability to tend the souls of others. Carolyn has contributed to an anthology of pandemic art, Beauty from Brokenness, and to Yet We Still Hope, a collection of honest, vulnerable essays by women serving overseas. You can connect with Carolyn and find her music and resources for the sojourning life at www.carolynbroughton.com.
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