How Forgiveness Brings Beauty from the Ashes

We sat in our favorite bistro at a table we knew well. This coastal town had been our getaway for eight years. We used to say this was “our place” the same way a couple claimed “their song.” Only this time his hand didn’t reach across the table to hold mine. He couldn’t even force himself to look at me.

“I’m done.”

The words sounded blunt as they came tumbling out of my husband’s mouth. He leaned back in the booth in a posture of defeat. His energy was drained in every way possible. I remember asking, “Done with what?” He replied, “Everything. All of it.” I pushed him to say more, struggling to understand what he meant. Eventually, it became clear. It was us. He was done with us.

I don’t remember talking as we returned to our rented cabin. Twelve straight hours of sleep were followed by a silent ride home. Shortly after we arrived, he drove four hours south to retrieve our daughter from my parents. I’d never skipped that trip before, but I didn’t think I could endure another wordless drive, as if we had nothing more to say.

It was the first time we’d felt too weary to fight the ever-widening chasm between us. Hope was elusive in those days, and we couldn’t see past the damage we kept inflicting on each other. We’d both carried deep-seated wounds into our marriage. Everyone who tried to help us brought only shallow answers. With what felt like our last breath, we cried out to God for help. The answer came in a simple truth that didn’t just save us then. It saved us later in an even harder season.

The concept that launched us towards restoration was this:

“Forgiveness is making the choice not to serve up an offense to yourself or the other person.”

There hadn’t been one large obvious offense between us. The disintegration of our marriage was the result of every moment we held onto the smaller hurts, creating fertile soil for bitterness to grow. We knew we wouldn’t survive if we didn’t choose to forgive over and over again. We had no idea that three years later, the amount of grace needed to forgive each other would be tested beyond our comprehension.

This time, we sat on opposite sides of a large wooden desk in our basement office. Hard questions surfaced. “How did this happen?” “How far did it go?” “Is it over between you two?” “Seriously, is it really over?” Some questions were never asked at all, because love doesn’t require every answer in order to forgive.With no one we could trust to help us, we turned inward, to each other and to Christ. We leaned on forgiveness. We poured out grace. We learned how to love all over again. There was still some falling down, but there was helping up too. We learned how to mend each other’s wounds and became less afraid to face the darkest places together.  Our love grew deeper than we could have ever imagined. We are tender towards one another and fiercely protective over what we’ve built through the years since then. We eventually found a couple we could trust with our story. (They have a story too.) They were willing to continue the work we started on our own. They still cheer us on to this day.

There is a rich beauty in the act of true forgiveness. It builds trust, fosters joy, and creates a solid foundation upon which to better build our relationships.

On our twenty-fifth anniversary, we stood across from each other, this time with nothing between us. We renewed our wedding vows, promising to keep learning to love each other better. We no longer dodge hard conversations, because we know the gift of endurance is on the other side. Even better, we know we aren’t done.

Jemelene Wilson is a passionate storyteller who writes of faith, hope, love, and food. She’s madly in love with her pastor husband and mama bear to two daughters. Grace is a fairly new concept she is exploring with her life and words. Mama Jem believes we should live gently and love passionately. You can find more of her writing at jemelene.com.