To Keep No Record of Wrongs

We pick them up. Little hurts, big hurts. But how do we learn not to keep a record of wrongs that clogs the arteries of our life?

I visited a friend the other day, and they invited me into their home.

As we wandered from room to room, everything was immaculate. Paintings hung perfectly, furniture was set at the right angle, flowers were on the table, and everything was clean and supposedly in their control.

But as we walked down the hallway, a door was shut. It was locked. I tried to open it but to no avail. Finally, my friend said I wouldn’t want to go in there as it didn’t contain anything of interest. But after some gentle words and assurances, they took the key from their pocket and unlocked the door.

I stepped in and saw a single wooden chair in the center of the room. The walls were covered in post-it notes. I walked around the room and read some of the notes. All the hurts and pains of their life were written—list upon list.

Many were written in child-like writing. Some of them had math on them, but that was wrong in the summation.

2 x 3 = 10
4+9 = 49
Mummy is angry; therefore, I am bad
Daddy doesn’t talk to me; therefore, I am not lovable

The walls were full of notes.

All the wrongs had a list. What they had done and the shame shadow of the event.

Some had been written over and over again—the same note but with a bolder pen.

The notes had been categorized into themes and conclusions. Some colored notes meant a different theme, while others meant another.

They had brought these notes to whatever home they lived in.

I looked at the wooden chair and saw that it was well-used. Beside it sat a small table with fresh new post-it notes and a pen ready for new expression and confession.

I asked my friend how long they spend in this room.

It was most of every day. They sat in here and memorized every post-it note. Line upon line, they had observed and recorded, and rehearsed.

Thinking errors

To them, their memory was perfect, and all conclusions reached were accurate.

I tried to logically point out some of the thinking errors, but there was no shifting.

For them, this was a matter of the heart. Even though they could see as an adult that some of the conclusions they had reached as a child made no logical sense, the heart told them that this was still true.

To validate the truthfulness of the error, they would still, even now as an adult, look for evidence to back up the error. They would write more post-it notes. The pad and pen were always ready for a new script.

This wasn’t a bedroom. This was a prison cell study of their brain’s making.

They had kept a list of wrongs, and it was holding them in.

Tears welled in my eyes as I gazed over the condemnations, conclusions, and brain-thinking concussions.

Only love could help us make sense of this together—only love beyond our awareness and control.

Love keeps no record of wrongs

What’s your record keeping like?

Accountants are essential when there is a tax to pay. They know all the rules, regulations, and laws pertaining to your finances. They are sticklers for accuracy. Every cent must be accounted for, and books must be balanced.

Do you have an inner accountant that needs to keep records? What’s the tax you pay for keeping a room full of self-accusatory post-it notes?

Perhaps you feel safer when you have good records. You’ll not be caught out again because you have kept a record, rehearsed it repeatedly, and it makes perfect sense to you.

The list, however, can constrict the dance of living lightly and freely. You scurry back to the room when you feel you’re losing control.

Love is a whisper of a dance you long to have with a lover who forgives the failing.

Law is a demand to stay safe, in control, and unknown. It’s a loud abuser with a whip snapping at your head.

Perhaps love is the answer to the post-it note dilemma.

Can love, in its purest form, erase or rewrite some of the internal scriptings we have held, seemingly forever?

Reality is often not what we perceive, especially when we have been hurt and betrayed in our formative years.
How damaged is your perception? David Riddell

Love is writing a new script

A man who knew the accountancy of God’s law book emerged from his entrapment to write the most famous biblical passage on love.

Paul writes these words.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 1 Corinthians 13:4

This is agape love. Love that reaches beyond our flawed human understanding to a place of not having to keep a record of wrongs to feel safe. God’s love keeps no record of our wrongs.

I want that kind of love to flow through the synapses of my brain. Healing the post-it note conclusions I have held dear to my heart.

It’s forgiving myself and retraining the brain. It’s wanting the tender mercies of God to break into the rooms I keep my lists.

Love invites us to be known.

Later in this chapter of love, Paul writes about becoming fully known.

When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. 1 Corinthians 13:11-12

In to my shame and guilt room comes Spirit (Holy), who tenderly helps me to take down the old lists and replace them with goodness and truth.

I begin to keep records of rights and not wrongs. Some of the post-it notes are hard to take down. They feel like they have been superglued to the walls of my heart. I have grown to like them being there, but Spirit is persistent about wanting to rewrite the story into truth.

I let go and let in.

Slowly the once-dark room of depression and anxiety takes on a warmth. I leave the door wide open. I welcome people into the room and bring couches for friends to sit on and marvel at God’s goodness.

They begin to let God into their dark and secret rooms. The perfume of Agape love smells sweet to the soul.

Do you keep a record of wrongs?

A list of wrongs will keep you in chains. It will shackle you to the past. The record of wrongs will eventually suffocate the life out of you.

Forgive.

Let go.

Don’t hold onto unused second-hand goods. They have served their childhood purpose but now need to be let go of.

Notice when you feel the need to keep a record. Notice how a current event FEELS exactly like one made years ago. It feels like an echo of a previous time and place.

Don’t hold on to it. Instead, release it to God and invite God’s truth to write the recording.

Quotes to consider

God’s forgiveness toward me and my forgiveness toward another are like the voice and the echo. Dennis and Matthew Linn
Forgiveness takes brokenness seriously and affirms that guilt is real, but also affirms that guilt is not the last word. Robert Harvey & David Benner
To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you. Lewis B. Smedes
Check every overreaction in the present for an echo from the past. Trace it, face it, replace it, or live on in all-out reaction to others. David Riddell
Emotional echoes need not be feared when recognised for what they are. Acknowledge them, then lay them aside. They can’t hurt you now unless you submit to them. David Riddell
If it is true that forgiveness is the most therapeutic fact in all of life, then guilt must be the most destructive. We are simply not built for it. David Seamands
When you next over-react in anxiety, rejection, or anger, try to distinguish between present reality and the echoes of past experiences. David Riddell
Being wrong isn’t painful in itself, but any echoes of humiliation must be laid to rest before correction can be accepted. David Riddell
“I don’t want to remember that incident because it’s too painful” means that it must be recalled in order that you may ‘think again’ and reassess old conclusions. David Riddell
Resolve the feelings by acknowledging emotions and re-interpreting old conclusions, then bury the past. David Riddell

Questions to consider

Why do we keep records?
Do we actively keep records of the good?
What ‘post-it’, in your life, would Spirit want to help you rewrite with agape love ink?