Worship Unhindered by Unforgiveness: What Living with an Unforgiving Heart Cost Me

“You haven’t forgiven any of those people. You need to do that.”

It was my second semester at college, and I was attending a school event. The accusation came from the professor who had encouraged me to come to the event and also happened to be my academic advisor. She followed with, “Come by my office this week and we can talk more.”

I had shared the highlight reel version of my family’s adoption story to various people before, but no one had called me out on my heart’s disposition to those events, to those people involved.

If I was honest with myself, there were signs that I had moved on, but not really dealt with my family’s experience. I hadn’t cried at all in the two years prior to that day. When the chapel was filled with hundreds of classmates worshiping our God and King with their emotions, I didn’t feel much of anything. In a class assignment, I had to chart all the life events that had impacted me--and it was an incredible struggle. I hated the assignment and I found myself trying to make sense of that chart, even when I was working on other assignments. At night, I had more and more nightmares. I was angry because if I had gotten the family I always wanted and had moved on from the painful parts, why was the assignment so hard?

Let me make one thing super clear, I wouldn’t change anything about my family’s story because it is actually the story of God’s faithfulness. There was never a point where I wished that God just put things back they were before we got into foster care. I had asked God to wow me, and that’s what He was doing.

Let’s go back to my comment about singing in chapel. I was worshiping. But at the same time, I wasn’t worshiping with my emotions because I felt numb to life. It’s hard to explain, but being around people who were worshiping with their emotions was convicting, because I didn’t have that.

The professor’s accusation about my need to forgive started connecting the dots. Somehow, my emotional numbness (and let’s be honest, this was really bitterness and anger), my struggle to chart all those events, and my “moving on, but not dealing with” dilemma brought me to the foot of the cross of Jesus.

In her office, she told me forgiveness wasn’t optional. She reminded me of the forgiveness that God had given me for my own sin. We can forgive because we’re forgiven, and God gives us grace to live with the consequences of other people’s sin. She sent me out of her office with a piece of paper with a prayer of forgiveness on it. I was supposed to write a list of all the people I was to forgive and hand write a prayer for each one. I went back to my dorm and shoved the paper in a drawer.

I knew that if I went through with this, that God might allow me to feel again. I knew I wanted that for my worship, but that also meant that forgiving people would hurt. So I prayed for the next couple of weeks that God would help my heart want to forgive. I made a lot of excuses, but one night I finally pulled out the prayer and started making a list.

The list included social workers, judges and attorneys I never met and didn’t know their names, a classmate, and pretty much anyone else that had a role in hurting my family.

I cried that night for the first time in two years as I surrendered what all those people did over to the Lord. I handed over my bitter, angry heart to God and chose to let Him work in me, even if it meant I would hurt again. There was no more pride in protecting myself when I was pushing away my greatest Protector.

I wish I could tell you that everything was a million times better the very next day. It wasn’t. There is a reason that I’m writing this three years later. I can look back now and see the faithful hand of God pour grace after grace into my heart and my life to heal me and grow me. My worship is no longer barred by my own bitterness but marked by the joy that I didn’t have before.

I’m still not an amazing forgiverer. In fact, this past fall, I had to pull out a notebook and write down a long prayer of forgiveness for someone. But now, I know the cost of unforgiveness.

When we don’t forgive, we tell God that His forgiveness wasn’t enough, that Jesus wasn’t enough. I had literally told God that I couldn’t forgive, that He needed to give me more. But that’s not true. He gave me everything, forgave me of everything.

Unforgiveness robbed me of the ability to fully worship.  

Unforgiveness caused numbness and bitterness that hurt my heart’s ability to praise with joy.

Unforgiveness minimized Jesus’ death and resurrection, something that calls for my daily worship.

Forgiveness may not be easy, and many times it will probably hurt. But I can’t live consumed by unforgiveness again, because God is worthy of my worship unhindered by unforgiveness.

//Alyson Jennie