Someone did a thoughtless thing, not an abusive or violent thing, just thoughtless. I needed to forgive. I tried praying for the person. This seemed a noble thing, and I righteously persevered. I was praying this person would have a nice day when all I could think of was the pain I felt. How good of me.
This went on for a long time. Months and months. I got a different bandage solution now and then that would make me forget or at least laugh off the person’s ignorant behavior. Sometimes it helped to separate the good qualities from the behavior that wounded me. Sometimes it helped to know I was loved by God. Still, I found myself stewing over my feelings of indignity and injustice and this person’s ignorance and ineptitude. Praying this person would have a good day was not enough. In fact, it was a symptom of what was really the cause of my pain. I was hurting because I was full of pride and wanted to feel superior to this person.
Wound my pride and I will remember it forever was my plan, a mystery even to myself until one moment when I finally asked God how to forgive. It became clear to me that the Sermon on the Mount has many solutions, and I had chosen the wrong one. This person was not my enemy and therefore did not need my sanctimonious, I’ll-take-the-high-ground prayers. My problem was a beam, right in the eye. It turns out I am the one who needed to ask forgiveness for some vain repetition in prayer and a lot of pride.
I am learning that asking the right questions in prayer is the way out of trouble.