I have debated whether or not to write anything about the Botham Jean case and its aftermath.
I'm a Southern white woman, and I can't speak to the racism and other things that my brothers and sisters of color have endured over the centuries. I also have never had a family member or close friend murdered.
When Botham Jean was first murdered, I wrote this post in response to it. I did not closely follow the trial of Amber Guyger, although I did know it was going on. I was glad that she was found guilty. I was not glad that she only got ten years.
I was also amazed when Brandt Jean, Botham's brother, told Amber Guyger he forgave her and hugged her in open court.
And I also agree that just because Brandt forgave, that does not negate the need for justice. Forgiveness and justice are not mutually exclusive. One can call for forgiveness, as the Bible does, while working for justice at the same time.
What crossed my mind after I heard of Brandt's gesture was, "I hope people realize that forgiveness is a process."
I grew up believing that if you forgave someone, it was as if the slate had been wiped clean. You were supposed to act like the offense never happened, you were supposed to never talk about it again, and you were not supposed to even think about it. If you did any of those things, it meant you hadn't forgiven. And the Bible says that if you do not forgive men their sins, God will not forgive yours (Matthew 6:15.)
But here's the problem: I couldn't do that.
I still remembered the hurts done to me. They still made me angry. I wanted to forgive, but if I was still thinking about what happened and still angry at what happened, how could I say I forgave?
Over the years, I've realized that forgiveness is a process. It cannot be demanded. It is commanded by God, but we cannot demand that someone forgive and we cannot demand that their forgiveness proceed on our timetable. If the person is a Christian, we can point them to the Bible, but their decision to forgive, and the process of that forgiveness, is up to them.
One of the most freeing things anyone ever said to me was a counselor I saw in my early '30's, not long after I moved to Atlanta. I've been in and out of counseling for a very long time (I am currently seeing one now). The major issue I hit is childhood bullying. I made a list of people who had bullied me at one time or another up to high school, and I got a list of 40 names.
The counselor said to me, "You're not ready to forgive yet. You will, but you're not ready yet."
What a relief to know that I could take my time with forgiving! It was not that I did not want to forgive. It was not that I did not refuse outright to forgive. It was that I was struggling with doing it. Her statement, "you're not ready to forgive," took the pressure off of me to instantly forgive the people who had hurt me. And her saying that I would forgive let me know that she had faith in me, that I would do the right thing.
Brandt Jean forgave. He has chosen the path to release bitterness, to release anger, and to allow God to work. The anger and the pain over Botham's murder, however, is going to return. But just because Brandt Jean will feel the pain and anger and hurt over Botham's murder, and just because he will remember what happened, that does not mean that he hasn't forgiven. It means that the healing power of God will take time to work.
Today is my 56th birthday. A few weeks ago, I'd mentioned to my current counselor that it was 50 years since I was first bullied. She suggested writing a letter (unmailed, of course) to the bullies as a way of letting it go.
What I chose to do was go to a nearby park, a new one, and pray. I did two laps around the pond there, and as I walked, I imagined myself dropping small stones on the path as a way of "letting go".
I've come to the point where I realize that I will be dealing with the consequences of what other people did for the rest of my life. It makes me angry that that is true. It's painful and hurtful to realize that I will probably continually battle feelings of anger and hurt over ways I was sinned against.
What I do not want to do, however, is to carry the burden of things that happened.
So I released those burdens to God, with full knowledge that I will probably have to repeat the process again . . . and again . . . and again. That doesn't mean that I have not forgiven. It means that I have told God, "I desire to forgive and I am turning to you because you can do in me what I cannot do. You can give me the power to forgive and the power to allow you to handle this person's ultimate judgment."
I hope no one ever gives Brandt Jean the idea that because he spoke the words "I forgive you" and hugged his brother's murderer that it's over, that he will never again deal with the pain and hurt and anger over his brother's murder. If Brandt ever expresses that he is angry, that he is struggling with forgiveness, I hope no one ever tells him, "Well, you said you forgave her. Did you really mean it?Have you really forgiven her?"
Preacher and writer Les Ferguson also knows firsthand the struggle of forgiveness. In October 2011, his son was repeatedly raped by a fellow church member. The member was arrested, and while out on bail, he murdered Les' wife and son. The man then drove to his own home and killed himself.
When asked if he had forgiven the man, Les said, "Yes, but I will probably have to do it again next week."
I will probably have to forgive the bullies again next week.
Brandt Jean will probably have to forgive Amber Guyger next week.
But I believe as long as the attitude of our hearts is, "God, you command forgiveness and I want to forgive. Please do in me what I cannot do," God does understand and he will give us the power to do what we cannot do without him.
Maybe Brandt Jean will be 56, walking around a pond in a park, and "dropping stones" on a path, praying to God to take the burdens from him. If he is, I believe God will do it.
In the meantime, remember that for him, as it is for all of us, forgiving is a process.
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
