Before heading to her desk, Corliss Meyer poured hot coffee into her favorite mug and added a liberal dousing of sugar and cream. Coming to work early, well before anyone else showed up, was habit for her. Getting the coffee going, organizing her desk and giving her mind time to wake up was part of her everyday routine.
Corliss headed to her office and sat down in her leather chair. Taking a sip from her mug, she turned and glanced out the small window to her right. A steady drizzle had started as she drove to work and the thick clouds above still kept on sprinkling, causing rivulets of water running down the glass. The warmth from her mug, nestled in her hands, helped quell the shiver that ran through her.
Solitude before the hectic pace of her day began was a blessing to Corliss. As she sat watching the rain hit the window, her mind wandered. And as usual, her thoughts drifted to where they usually strayed. It had been a few years but still the memories floated to her, taunting her, tempting her to pick them up and grieve.
Corliss hadn’t seen it coming. She’d expected more from friends. Maybe it was their upbringing or maybe just their penchant for cruelty that had caused them to treat her this way. Whatever the reason for the callous actions, it left her feeling violated and degraded.
Friends should be kinder. The words they’d written had gone deep. Corliss couldn’t shake their effect. Even after a few years, the well-articulated publications attacked her tender heart like a battering ram and reminded her of her status. Being part of their exclusive club was denied her. She no longer belonged. The closeness they once had was long gone and had been replaced by both veiled and open rejection.
The advance of the impenetrable wall had risen gradually. At first it had seemed possible to scale it, bring it back down to size. Now it seemed so tall and intimidating, reinforced by years of anger and hate that it left her feeling weak-kneed.
If only there was some way to make things right. Remediation seemed out of reach. She wished she knew what she’d done wrong and had the wisdom to make amends. She’d tried but her attempts were like seed scattered on hard-packed clay. There seemed to be no give in their negative views of her. Somehow she’d offended them. Their cold attitudes and anger were proof of it.
Corliss had first noticed it on Facebook. At first there’d been hints of offence in the posts she read, small snippets of anger over something she’d said or did. Each time she apologized and tried to alter her methods to appease them. They weren’t easily mollified. But then, maybe she didn’t know the full scope of what she’d done. Maybe the posts on Facebook weren’t the full truth. Perhaps her friends held on to long lasting grudges over some geriatric breach of conduct on her part. She wished she knew.
Why was forgiveness so difficult for them? Was she really not worth forgiving? Was holding on to anger, hatred and keeping a grudge more valuable than trying to mend their relationship?
The cruel words she’d read years ago whispered to her when she’d least expect them to. Being reminded of the words, on a regular basis, always left her feeling berated and at fault somehow. The source of the reminder felt evasive. It floated toward her at times, wrapping its accusing arms around her in subtle familiarity. At other times it assailed her like a hurricane force wind, insinuating that she would never measure up, never be good enough for inclusion.
It was well known that she was too blunt and honest for her own good. It was difficult for her to hold her tongue regarding her feelings and thoughts. Maybe if she was silent more often, their anger would abate. She’d tried that. It wasn’t working either. The censorship she’d placed on her lips seemed to affirm their right to hate her.
Their posts on Facebook had taken a toll on their friendship. Not that they’d ever named her specifically but snippets of their past conversations were included in their reports. Along with that came their harsh evaluation. They’d asserted that ‘this person’ was insensitive, uncaring, callous and entirely too opinionated. And then, their avoidance of her was declaration enough of their disdain.
Perhaps they were right and maybe not. Corliss didn’t feel that she was what they described. She knew she wasn’t perfect. Was there anyone who could make that claim? And she wasn’t what they believed about her. They spoke of what they could see. They didn’t know what was in her heart, the damage that had been done. The wall of anger and hatred had bruised her nearly beyond repair. Her heart could be hurt and damaged like any breathing human.
Didn’t they realize that their reaction was far worse than whatever they accused her of? It had been years that she’d endured their anger. Was their harsh judgment, years of hatred, justified? Was what she did and said really deserving of such a long sentence?
She knew, almost from the beginning, that to repay the injustice she’d endured by taking revenge would not be the best route to take. Sowing anger produced more anger; in fact it produced an abundant harvest of it. The desire to lash back was strong but she’d turned away from that and chose forgiveness instead, to bless those hurting her. That decision had brought a certain peace to her soul. Perhaps what she’d heard and read was true. Love never fails.
Corliss had made a decision of the will to love them regardless of how they still made her feel. Choosing to forgive and love them in spite of whether they wanted her love seemed like the higher road, a road less traveled. It wasn’t the easiest choice she’d ever made. It went against everything her flesh wanted to do. Revenge felt right. Blessing them felt like laying herself out like a carpet to be walked on.
Other thoughts now came to her on a regular basis. If the one who spoke the words, ‘love never fails’, was right, just maybe this approach would produce some favorable results. Fruit, good fruit, was only produced in an unpolluted environment. Toxic soil couldn’t produce a healthy tree. Only a healthy heart could give love in the face of hatred. There was only one place a heart could be healed and made whole. She knew, she’d walked through the process.
And she wasn’t required to do this independently. As she chose a higher way, there was strength to walk it out, a power and determination she couldn’t muster up on her own. Corliss had counted on it.
There’d been notable changes in her life. She’d opened her heart to other people, new friends, kind women who understood her, empathized with her and truly showed that they cared. If she’d never launched out from the familiar it could be possible that she never would have met them. Now she considered these new friendships a gift from Heaven, precious friends whom she could trust.
The trauma of being rejected had forced her to focus on life’s positives; otherwise the assault against her character could have crushed her. There were so many things to be thankful for, so many blessings surrounded her.
Corliss Meyer had her husband and her children. They meant the world to her. Good, faithful friends had been added to her. They were a treasure in so many ways. New business opportunities were opening before her. It refocused her attention and allowed her to see hope in her future. Changes had taken place, positive shifts that showed her that life could be good again.
Actually, life had been good all along. It was simply her focus that had been skewed. Keeping her eyes fixed on the mistreatment and cruelty had colored her glasses with a dingy, smeared gray, like the clouds blanketing the sky. Placing her attention on those things that were true, admirable and good made life look bright in spite of the opinion of others. Keeping her eyes fixed on the right things was crucial.
There were noises now in different parts of the office, others arriving for work. Corliss took a few long drafts of her tepid coffee and set her cup down on her desk.
One thing Corliss had become convinced of and that was that life was good. The One she served was good and so her heart would survive. There’d already been so much healing. She trusted now. That had been a struggle before. How could she trust someone who had allowed her to get so hurt? Now she knew, He’d been there for her all along and knew the state of her heart. He understood all things and knew her decision to choose love, over and over again. It hadn’t been easy. He knew that. She trusted that there was a reason and purpose in it all even though she couldn’t yet see it. He could make all things new. He already was.