Wanted: Brand New Slate

II Corinthians 2:7 -- "so that on the contrary, you should rather forgive and comfort him, otherwise such a one might be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow."

The mouse indicator hovers just above my answer to the friend request notification on Facebook. As I sit there, looking at a face with which I am none too happy, I contemplate just clicking no and moving on. Instead, I check out of Facebook all together and lean back in my office chair. I decide to put the deciding off. I don't want to deal with this now. I actually don't want to deal with it at all - but I know running away from the issue isn't going to do either party involved any good. 

When I see that face, I think of all the pain it caused. I think of the broken family, the betrayal, the just plain WRONG etched in the subtle age lines on it's forehead. Part of me feels that clicking to confirm friend request will be a betrayal all of my own. But then I remember - I am forgiven. 

My slate is caked with the dust of old chalk-marks, many - some of them so deep that white powder from fresh strokes clings to the scratches left behind - it would break my heart if my own friend requests were refused because of them. In fact, I seem to recall that there were many people in my immediate proximity that felt that my awesome and amazing husband should have tucked tail and run instead of dating a divorced, single mother. [that's what happens in a small-ish town, I guess]

I re-open Facebook. I check my messages - again - and look deep into the eyes of the requesting party. I think of II Corinthians 2:7. 

I'll never forget the first time I "came home" after multiple chaotic chalk marks had been scribbled across my slate, erased, re-scribbled, and finally scrubbed. Dropping my two-year-old off at his Sunday School Class, I all but hid behind my baby sister's skirts as we ventured into our own and took our seats. Intimated would not BEGIN to describe the way I felt. All those bright, shiny familiar faces looked up at me in surprise, in curiosity, and perhaps a little judgement. 

But then the hugging began. Never before had my slate felt so new.

I take the computer mouse in hand and click accept. 

The thing is - MOST people who find themselves in a spot where they have to carry around an old, beat-up and slightly scarred life slate KNOW that in order to BE in that particular situation - they have, somewhere along the way, made a pretty bad mark or two upon it. Sometimes brief moments pass before we messy slate holders realize we've made a terrible mistake. Sometimes years pass and it takes true redemption a while to get through our stubborn skulls and walled up hearts. WHEN that moment comes, however, it would be devastating to have journeyed through all the mess only to find that fellowship is impossible due to lingering judgements. How can messy slate holders move forward and grow if no one in their peer group is willing to let them? [and let's face it - we ALL have messy slates! the individual marks that made them so aren't really the issue.]  

To quote one of my FAVORITE movies: "every time I see you, you seem to go out of your way to make me feel like a complete idiot. And you really needn't bother: I already feel like an idiot most of the time anyway." The truth is - most people don't need additional judgement or "friends" pointing out that they have made a mistake in order to be sorry for the messiness. Most people with really messy slates already feel badly about the mess.

As I surfed my Facebook pages it occurred to me that so very often I confuse forgiveness with trust. I realize I do not have to proclaim that this new/old face friend is my life-long BFF. But I CAN forgive. Otherwise, will I not be causing "my brother to stumble"? Does a deeply scarred and slowly healing soul REALLY need MORE sorrow? Isn't moving forward through a sloppy, muddy, sticky mess overwhelming enough on it's own?