Looking For Forgiveness
Written by Tim Tedder
Many of the clients I work with struggle with forgiveness. Forgiveness does not come easily to most of us; we have to find our way to it.
This extensive article is a compilation of seven pieces I’ve written on forgiveness. The first section, Five Kinds of Forgiveness, considers five ways of forgiving an affair, although the principles apply to any situation in which an offense has been committed. Each of the five parts in this section describes a unique approach to forgiveness, but only the last two (Decisional Forgiveness and Completed Forgiveness) provide a healthy model.
The final section, Powerless Forgiveness, addresses two reasons why an act of forgiveness may be rendered powerless. Part 1 addresses the forgiveness seeker's inadequate response, and Part 2 considers ways in which the forgiveness giver thwarts the process.
I aim to guide you toward a better way—toward the kind of forgiveness that brings freedom and new beginnings. I hope you’ll find it.
CONTENTS
Five Kinds of Forgiveness
Premature Forgiveness
Fake Forgiveness
Bartered Forgiveness
Decisional Forgiveness
Completed Forgiveness
Powerless Forgiveness
Part 1: Selfish Apologies
Part 2: Penitence Without Pardon
Premature Forgiveness
It is a good thing when a person moves toward forgiving a spouse's affair, but I become a bit suspicious of forgiveness that is offered too quickly. That kind of premature forgiveness reminds me of my childhood encounter with the Neighborhood Bully.
My grade-school friends and I were playing by the side of the road when he came riding by on his bike. I knew Bully only by reputation and so had no idea why he stopped, letting his bike fall to the ground as he walked purposefully toward me. Before I could make any sense of the circumstance, and without speaking a word of warning, Bully punched me in the face.
In those few seconds after the hit, my rattled brain scanned its memory data in search of anything useful in issuing an appropriate response. The only retrievable information came from Sunday School lessons: "turn the other cheek" and "love your enemies." So, while Bully's glare was daring me to fight back, I focused on my feet and mumbled, "I forgive you."
"What?!"
"I forgive you."
I figured God was really happy with this response; perhaps even pleased enough to send a couple of invisible angels to protect me. Or maybe Bully would just back away in awed confusion, overcome by my forgiving spirit.
Instead, he punched me again.
Since forgiveness failed, I tried something else: playing dead. Maybe he figured it wasn’t much fun punching a kid whose face was planted in the dirt, but whatever the reason, Bully got on his bike and rode away.
My next days were filled with revenge fantasies. I imagined every way a normal-me or a superhero-me might make Bully pay for his offense. My forgiveness had just been a temporary reaction, not a genuine response. It had been premature.
Some of the clients have offered premature forgiveness for their spouse's affair. Soon after the affair was discovered, these spouses were quick to declare, "Oh, I’ve already forgiven," only to return days or weeks later, confused by how angry they had become and how strongly they wanted justice.
Forgiveness is a good thing. It's God-like. It frees us. It heals. However, your forgiveness will be superficial if you attempt to offer it before you have become completely aware of the offense. Eventually, you will either have to back up and start over or settle for a kind of fake forgiveness (pretending to forgive, but not really).
Small offenses, of course, require small forgiveness. But when you experience the "knife in the heart" kind of hurt an affair inflicts, make sure you take the time to truly understand what happened. Then, out of this awareness, find your way toward more honest, sustainable, and mature forgiveness.
Fake Forgiveness
Another Saturday night. Jake sat at the table with a group of friends, sipping at his wine while inwardly bracing himself. His wife, Marci, had started in again with the jokes—thinly-veiled criticisms at his expense. Ever since her affair, she seemed to slip more easily into these demeaning and embarrassing comments. Friends laughed, some of them glancing at Jake to check his reaction. He pretended to join them in the fun.
Driving home, Marci felt uncomfortable in the familiar quiet. "Don't take it so personally, Jake. I was just joking around. Nobody took it seriously." Jake remained quiet. "Come on, you're not really going to be mad about this, are you?"
He measured his response."I'm not mad. It's okay. We don't need to talk about it anymore." Marci, satisfied enough, slumped against the passenger door. Jake stared at the road as he drove home. All forgiven. All forgotten.
Not really.
Fake forgiveness is offered with a smile covering clenched teeth. It's an attempt to gloss over an offense and pretend everything is fine when, in truth, unresolved hurt and resentment remain. Whereas premature forgiveness is soon cast aside, fake forgiveness is usually held onto as though it were the real thing.
Sometimes, people become so skilled at being Fake Forgivers that they don't even realize they're doing it. They profess forgiveness but find themselves experiencing feelings of anxiety, anger, or depression that they cannot explain. Their hidden resentments are often expressed in passive-aggressive behaviors (e.g., "Oh, I'm so sorry I forgot to do that for you.").
Why do people fake forgive an affair? Some do it because they fear the conflict they would have to endure if they tried to resolve their sense of betrayal. Others believe forgiveness is always required, so they need to "just do it." Regardless of the reason, fake forgiving inevitably fails to provide genuine healing after an affair. Instead of allowing the injury to be cleaned out so it can heal properly, fake forgiveness slaps a bandage over it and pretends everything is fine. While things appear to be going well on the surface, the injury continues to worsen.
To make sure you are offering genuine forgiveness for an affair, keep these things in mind:
Fake forgiveness ignores or minimizes the hurt.
Genuine forgiveness can only be offered after your hurt from the affair is acknowledged. If you do not honestly recognize and admit your hurt, you are not honestly recognizing or admitting the offense. If it is not truly acknowledged, it cannot be truly forgiven.
Fake forgiveness is quickly stated with the expectation that you simply declare it and then move on.
Genuine forgiveness is usually a process, not an event. Small offenses, like small cuts, can be easily mended, but major wounds require more time. An affair is a major wound, so it will take longer to heal. If forgiveness is offered, it will likely be repeatedly reaffirmed as healing progresses.
Bartered Forgiveness
Bartered forgiveness is offered under the condition that the offender lives up to certain expectations. These expectations are often unstated and may have nothing to do with the affair. As long as the offended partner remains content in the relationship, there is no mention of the past affair. But whenever conflict or discontent reaches a sufficiently high level, the affair is once again used as a weapon against the offender.
I knew a mother who was going through a difficult period of struggle with her defiant teenage son. One afternoon, in the heat of an argument, her son picked up a BB pistol, aimed it at her head, and pulled the trigger. He assumed the gun was empty, but it was not. A BB shot out of the gun and into the flesh between her eyes. Blood poured down her face and onto her sweater. It was a frightening event, but the emotional damage was worse than the physical. Soon afterward, the son expressed sorrowful regret, and his mother readily forgave him.
But imagine a different outcome.
Imagine the mother proclaiming her forgiveness and then hanging the bloodied sweater in a closet. A week later, in the middle of another argument, Mom stops yelling, walks to the closet, reaches for the stained sweater, and puts it on. Her son is silenced. She learns that whenever she wears the evidence of his shame, she regains control. The shirt becomes her go-to strategy at the cost of her son's increased resentment and the deterioration of their relationship. Even if she puts the sweater back into the closet each time, her forgiveness isn't real; it's just a bargaining chip.
Most of us would be appalled by this manipulation, but how often do we revisit the past and bring up some old offense? How frequently do we hold up the evidence of past hurts to gain control by shaming the offender? When have we found more value in holding on to someone's wrongdoing instead of letting it go, even though we once claimed to forgive them?
Affairs cause deep hurt, so it may take time to reach a place of genuine forgiveness. It may require effort as you continue to affirm it, but the purpose of forgiveness is to leave the affair in the past. Genuine forgiveness does not allow you to reach back and drag the affair into the present each time it seems useful again.
Are you a bartering forgiver? Here are some things you might want to consider doing:
Get help from someone who can help you move toward forgiveness.
Remember when you experienced real forgiveness (from others, from God) and consider what it means to know your offenses have been left in the past.
If the affair is over and the offender genuinely asked for your forgiveness, do something to demonstrate that you are willing to finally let it go. You might want to write a long letter describing every detail of the hurt you've experienced and then burn it once and for all. That won't make the pain disappear, but it can be an act of your intent to no longer let the affair maintain its power over you. Whenever you're tempted to reach back to the offense again, remember your action of letting it go.
Admit your bartering forgiveness to your partner, and ask them to forgive you.
Utilize resources, such as books and recordings, to learn more about forgiveness.
Decisional Forgiveness
Some people consider forgiveness an all-or-nothing proposition. It's a bit like bungee jumping; you can stand frozen or take the step, but you can't go just halfway down. Combine this thinking with the idea that forgiveness is always the best choice, and you will eventually find yourself in a dilemma: How can you completely forgive someone who shows no remorse for hurting you?
In my opinion, personal forgiveness is always the best choice, even if the offender doesn't deserve it. I have not been ultimately tested in this belief. For example, if someone intentionally caused significant harm to any member of my family, I'm not sure what I'd do. I hope I find my way toward forgiveness because I've seen the fruit of unforgiveness, and I'd rather not taste it.
Does that mean I would give up on seeking justice? Not necessarily. Does that mean I would trust that person around my family again? Probably not. But it does mean that even if a person is not repentant for a wrong done against me, it is better for me to release my hands from around their neck and let go of my desire for personal vengeance.
If your partner has betrayed you, moving toward forgiveness is in your best interest. But how do you do this if your partner is unremorseful or absent? What if they left you (physically or emotionally) and show no interest in coming back? Or what if they come back to you wanting everything to be "over" but give little indication that they care about understanding your anger or pain? How can you be expected to forgive in a situation like this?
Maybe by deciding to forgive.
Decisional forgiveness chooses to let go of personal retribution while accepting the fact that you might never realize the emotional healing that would come if you experienced the offender's remorse. This kind of forgiveness can occur when you stop focusing on things beyond your control (the offense or the offender) and instead give attention to what is within your ability to change. You are not responsible for the hurt, but you are responsible for your healing. You may never trust them again, but you can still forgive.
What can you decide to do?
Talk it out.
If you haven't done so already, you need to fully acknowledge the pain caused by the affair. Talk about it with someone you trust. Get advice on whether or not it would be beneficial to communicate your hurt to your spouse and, if so, the best way to do it.Drop your weapon.
In whatever way you carry around the idea of revenge, let it go. Give up on the idea that you are personally responsible for satisfying justice. If action is required, leave retribution to a higher authority: God or the law.Start looking in the opposite direction.
One definition of forgiveness: “Forgiveness is giving up on trying to change the past.” Instead of obsessing and ruminating about the past, turn around and look at your future.
This is easier said than done, but you can change how you think. Start by giving attention to what you feed your thoughts. Eliminate harmful mental foods (bitter conversations, revenge movies, and anything that fuels anger or draws you into the past) and seek more positive input (Scripture, uplifting songs, encouraging friends, and anything that promotes peace and a focus on the future). If you cannot escape obsessive thoughts, talk to someone who can help.Search for empathy.
If you become too focused on your pain, your perspective will be limited and your emotional responses will be restricted. You will find it easier to forgive if you can (1) gain some understanding of your spouse's perspective, even if it is just an acknowledgment of ways they've been damaged, (2) be willing to acknowledge ways you contributed to relationship problems, and (3) remember the times when others forgave you.
Complete Forgiveness
Completed forgiveness is realized when, in addition to the decision to forgive, the forgiver experiences a full emotional release from the pain of the offense. The deeper the offense, the greater the pain will be.
Completed forgiveness restores the whole person: mind, body, and spirit. It is the kind of forgiveness that most of us long for. It takes us beyond just a decision to a place where we experience healing on an emotional level. We feel the release and freedom that comes from forgiving or being forgiven.
Here's how it works in my close relationships. When I get into conflict, my analytical mode shifts into overdrive as I argue my case. After all, I'm probably 60-90% right, and everything will be settled as soon as the other person finally listens to me! In the moment, this strategy seems reasonable, even though decades of experience provide clear and compelling evidence to the contrary. The result, of course, is that we become more distant; I back away, leaving them feeling alone, hurt, or angry.
Since I'm not a complete idiot, I eventually figure out I did something wrong. I admit this and ask for forgiveness. Because they genuinely love me, they are quick to grant it.
But I've learned that when I simply say, "I'm sorry for that," the sting often remains even after we move past the offense. They no longer hold it against me, but they still feel hurt because I simply used words without becoming emotionally involved in the forgiveness process. A change comes the moment I move toward the other person, look them in the eye, and speak from my heart instead of my head.
When I am honest about my disappointment in myself and show genuine remorse, they soften. The sting is removed. Completed forgiveness comes.
That "softening" is, I believe, the mark of full forgiveness following an affair. It is a compassionate, humble, empathetic response from the betrayed spouse toward the one who cheated on them. Without it, they have to settle for something a little less.
Experiencing empathy for a spouse who had an affair should not be required or expected in every circumstance. If you recently found out about your spouse's affair, any suggestion that you should empathize with them likely seems absurd. However, if you truly want to forgive, you must be willing to eventually adopt a compassionate response. How?
To realize compassionate empathy for a spouse who betrayed you, one of these experiences must be true:
1. Your spouse is emotionally involved in the process of forgiveness.
If your spouse can express honest sorrow and remorse for their affair, then you have an opportunity to let down your guard and allow your feelings to soften. You may not get this chance if no regret is shown, or if they offer an apology that falls short of genuine contrition.
Even if your spouse shows genuine remorse, you cannot move toward an empathetic response if you hold on to vengeance. You will have to let go of your demand for personal justice and be willing to step out of your own experience and into the sorrow of your offender. This provides an opportunity for both of you to experience healing.
But what if your offender does not engage you at this emotional level? What if they do not offer genuine remorse? Some counselors believe that the best one can hope for in that circumstance is a kind of decisional forgiveness, because they assert that complete forgiveness can only be achieved if the offender is an active participant in the process. However, there is another way, although it is equally challenging.
2. You fully acknowledge your offenses against others, your own need for forgiveness, and out of the grace that has been given to you, you completely release your spouse.
I hesitate to write this second option because it can be easily turned into a moral or spiritual dictate that becomes a "requirement" for being a truly good person. Let me be very clear: good people do not always fully forgive. There is a place for justice.
Some people are so aware of their own need for grace and forgiveness, and how they've received these in the past, that they can genuinely forgive an affair even when the spouse is not asking to be forgiven. This kind of forgiveness amazes me, and I don't think I'm very good at it, but I have witnessed it on occasion.
Honestly, it seems that people of faith often have a slight advantage in this second point. They usually believe that if they got what they truly deserved, they'd be in a mess of trouble. But they receive something better instead – grace and forgiveness. If they see themselves that way, as undeserving recipients of gracious forgiveness, then we should find it easier to move with compassionate empathy toward those who have offended them (Colossians 3:13). That's how it should be, at least. In practice, it often is not.
Forgiveness is personal. Forgiveness can be hard, and sometimes it may even seem nearly impossible. But it is always the goal worth moving toward.
Lewis Smedes once wrote, "We talk a good forgiving line as long as somebody else needs to do it, but few of us have the heart for it while we are dangling from one end of a bond broken by somebody else's cruelty." If you're dangling, I hope you'll find something better in your heart.
Powerless Forgiveness 1: Selfish Apologies
We believe that forgiveness is essential for a healthy and satisfying relationship. But if that's true, why don't apologies always work? Why are offended people sometimes unsatisfied after an apology has been offered? Why are the words "I said I'm sorry. What more do you want?!" so familiar? Because motive makes all the difference. An apology can be filled with all the right words but remain powerless if offered for the wrong reason.
An effective apology is motivated by a desire to correct an offense against someone else and to resolve the hurt we have caused them. But apologies are too often used as a quick fix for our uneasiness. When we focus more on our discomfort than on the distress of the other person, our apology is selfish, and selfish apologies are usually ineffective.
I once stayed up late three nights in a row playing video games with my 19-year-old daughter. My wife preferred me to go to bed at the same time she did, but she didn’t begrudge our late-night gameplay.
On the fourth night, when I was tired and ready to go to bed at her earlier time, she informed me that she was taking the next day off and was hoping we could stay up together for a while.
Aware of her disappointment, I stood across the room and explained that I was ready for sleep. She looked dejected and hoped I'd change my mind, but I was tired and wanted to go to bed. And so I did. She decided to do the same.
The conversation continued as we sat in bed. She explained her anticipation of spending casual time with me that night and the hurt of realizing I did not want the same.
"I'm sorry you feel disappointed," I finally said.
Her response was quick. "I hate it when you apologize for how I feel."
"Well, I don't think I did anything wrong. I thought going to bed earlier tonight would be a good thing. I didn't realize your plans had changed. If you think I did anything wrong, we can talk about it. But the fact is, I didn't intend to hurt you, and I'm sorry if you feel that way."
That ended the conversation, and I soon fell asleep.
But the following day, I awoke feeling unsettled. I pictured my wife sitting sadly on the couch the night before, and this question immediately came to mind: Whose relief were you most interested in? The answer was obvious.
Although everything I had said in my defense was true, and even though I honestly regretted her sadness, my apology to her was powerless because from the very moment I was aware of her hurt, my responses were primarily driven by a desire for my own relief (from tiredness, feeling guilty, having to spend too much time trying to comfort her, potential conflict). In those moments, I had been moving away from my wife, not towards her.
If I had been concerned about her relief, not just mine, I would have probably returned to the couch to be close to her while we talked. I would have touched her. I would have assured her that time with her was important to me, too, and perhaps suggested protecting our weekend to ensure that would happen. Maybe I would have even suggested watching a 30-minute show we'd both enjoy. The specific solution would not have mattered as much to her as my intention to provide comfort.
That question may be worth considering when asking for forgiveness. Whose relief are you most interested in? Yours, or theirs? It's not wrong to want relief for yourself, but the power of your apology will be measured by how much you focus on what the other person needs from you.
By the way, failure never has to be the end of our story. Once I realized the inadequacy of my response, I talked to her about it. I admitted that I had been more focused on my relief than hers. I said I was sorry and wanted to keep figuring out how to love her better. That time, the apology worked.
Powerless Forgiveness 2: Penitence Without Pardon
In the previous section (Selfish Apologies), I noted that an apology lacks power when the offender is more concerned with alleviating their own discomfort than with providing relief to the person they have offended. A self-focused apology is seldom satisfying to the recipient. But forgiveness-seekers aren't the only ones who can sap the power out of forgiveness; forgiveness-givers can be selfish, too.
We hesitate to point out the shortcomings of the offended person. After all, why should anything be required of the victim? Shouldn't the offender carry the full responsibility for making things right?
Absolutely... if the only concern is for justice or recompense. However, if genuine forgiveness is to occur, the offended individual must be willing to consider the offender's burden of shame and permit them to release it.
I hear the objections: What if the offender doesn't ask for forgiveness? What if there is no remorse? What if the offender isn't even around anymore? What if the offense was huge (extreme abuse, acts of violence, etc.)? Those are fair questions that demand thoughtful consideration, but this section deals with a specific condition: the need for forgiveness in intimate relationships. Intimacy requires forgiveness, and forgiveness requires compassion.
Of course, compassion is not the first response that comes to mind when we are hurt by someone we love. On the contrary, most of us react by either attacking or retreating. Our self-protection will likely continue until we believe the offender has shown sufficient remorse. But it is at this very point that we may become stuck, especially when the wound feels deep. In response to our pain, we may limit our vulnerability by requiring ongoing penitence without offering hope for pardon. We punish by withholding our forgiveness.
A married couple once came to see me because they had not been able to move past the husband's affair that had occurred over 10 years ago. I was the latest in a series of counselors they had seen. After a few sessions, it became clear that the wife had no intention of forgiving her husband. Although he had confessed, repented, and never returned to that behavior again, she continued to focus on his betrayal. Her unforgiveness allowed her to stay in control and minimized the risk of being hurt again. But they were miserable; their marriage was full of conflict and void of intimacy.
I finally asked her, "What could your husband say or do that would allow you to begin moving toward forgiveness?" She stared at me, expressionless, and finally said, "Nothing, because he can't undo the past." At least she was being honest, but her marriage was doomed.
This pattern of requiring penitence without granting pardon can even occur when the transgressions are relatively minor. Little offenses build up into big resentments, and the relationship gets stuck if the offended spouse never grants a pardon. Instead of giving the message, I'm willing to let go of this and leave it in the past, the hurt spouse communicates any of the following:
Withholding forgiveness is a good way to punish you.
I'll let you know when you've done enough to earn my forgiveness.
Forgiving you just gives you the right to hurt me again.
I'll forgive, but I won't forget... and I'll keep reminding you of that.
In future conflicts, reminders of past offenses are fair weapons for me to use against you.
Is it okay to want to see contrition? Of course. Can it take time to truly forgive? Yes, and deep hurts often take more time to heal. But consider your partner's relief, not just your own. Don't get stuck in your pain. Find your way to I forgive you.