Forgive and forget

The sermon for the past couple of weeks has been about forgiveness.

It has proved a tough topic for Ladies’ Bible Class - not just because we cherish our pet hurts with all the care we lavish on our little animal companions. Scripture tells us, when God forgives, He also wipes away the memory of the hurt. None of us can remember doing that, so the hot topic of discussion is whether we have truly forgiven.

Last weekend, the boys had a sleep-over. My youngest took the opportunity to stay up all night, but he didn’t sleep through the sermon about forgiveness, nor did he nap that afternoon or go to bed early. Tough stuff!

The next evening was our first really cold one. The older son raced off to work and I went to visit my mother-in-law, as usual. I had a drive there and back, so I didn’t bother with hat and gloves. Imagine my dismay at arriving home to find the house aglow and the door locked.

Obviously, the little guy had gone to bed for a good night’s rest, leaving the lights on for the rest of us.

I tapped the cast iron knocker on our front door few times, but he didn’t appear. I pounded with it for a solid two minutes, stopping only because I was sure the racket would wake all the little children in the neigbourhood. No sleepy-eyed son appeared. Well, he must be deep asleep, I thought.

Now the big problem was, I had left my key with the hat and gloves and the older son wouldn’t be home for another hour-and-a-half. Already, I was getting cold. There seemed no point in standing there getting colder, so I tried all the possibilities. Nope, none of the other doors had been left unlocked. And the window that had given me entry on another adventure refused to budge. I banged on the knocker till the whole front of the house shook, but not hard enough, apparently, to shake my teenager out of bed.

How about setting up the extension ladder and crawling to his bedroom window? The process was fraught with more complication than a fine piece of crochet, and all in vain: At the top of the ladder, the roof appeared so steep, I had not the nerve to set foot on it. The pebbles I tossed reached their mark, but rattled uselessly against the pane.

Last resort: scratch the window with the leaf rake. Yeah, surely that would wake the child, and I could keep up the noise until he did! Ten minutes later, though, I tasted defeat. As I turned to drop the rake before climbing down the ladder, I caught sight of a young man loping towards the house. He hadn’t been at home at all! Just up town at the library.

How could I not forgive him? But don’t think for one minute I’m going to forget to take my key next time!