But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles.   Matt 5:39-41

A paradox really… Those don’t seem to be especially cheerful, encouraging words, and it’s definitely an awkward introduction to a Thankful Thursday post; but with the right word in due season comes peace and burdens are lifted. For that I am thankful.

In many ways this feels like an extension of the “Friends in Low Places” piece I wrote a few weeks ago. Like so many others, I recently walked through a shadowed valley, a weary season, a time of struggle; and just as “out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks,”  out of the pen, or keyboard, the soul speaks, crafting words of hurt and offense or of hope and reconciliation.

“Forgiveness is the key that unlocks the door of resentment and the handcuffs of hatred. It is a power that breaks the chains of bitterness and the shackles of selfishness.”  Corrie Ten Boom

I recently found myself rehearsing offenses, playing back hurtful tapes, and blatantly vowing to disconnect or to payback hurt for hurt. Is it human nature to respond defensively when we’ve been hurt, rejected, misunderstood, or subtly “victimized”?  Is it a natural reflex to lash out or, conversely, to withdraw? Who then do we really hurt? Is it a shallow, veiled attempt at self-protection or is it actually a catalyst for isolation and self-condemnation? Who feels the heaviest, constraining weight of the chains? The claustrophobic, choking effects as the feelings of anger and injustice close in like a vice? In my futile attempt to protect my own feelings or perceived “rights”, I found myself feeling imprisoned behind iron bars and dark clouds.

That’s when I finally heard the words, roaring like a drenching rain from a darkened sky blowing against my face.  Should I lean into it turn away? It has been said in so many different ways: Forgive, let it go, turn the other cheek. That’s what I heard: turn the other cheek and go the extra mile. Consider the consequences: a sore cheek, no coat, sore feet, humility, and quiet strength. Or…binding chains, clinched fists, heavy heart, frown lines, dark thoughts, sleepless nights, and slow steady poison coursing through every cell, every vein, every tissue, every thought, every plan.

Well…maybe that’s a bit dramatic, but it still wasn’t very pleasant, life-giving, or peace-making. Simply put: I chose forgiveness. I let it go. I turned the other cheek and vowed to walk the extra mile. And then…the sun shone brighter, the fog lifted, and my heart was no longer heavy. So I am thankful for ancient words of advice, for freedom, and also thankful that at some point someone turned the other cheek and walked the extra mile for me.