Restpiration

When Forgiveness Becomes Greater Than Vengeance

One of the clearest signs that peace is beginning to take root in a person’s heart is when the desire to forgive becomes stronger than the desire to get even.

Forgiveness is one of the most underestimated virtues in the world. Many people view it as weakness. Others see it as surrender. Some even believe it means allowing wrongdoers to walk away without consequences. But perhaps we think this way because we fail to grasp what forgiveness truly is.

At its core, forgiveness is the refusal to allow the wounds of yesterday to poison the beauty of today. It is the decision not to carry an injury beyond the moment it occurred. It is choosing freedom over emotional imprisonment.

The opposite of forgiveness is vengeance.

Vengeance has a way of convincing us that our suffering will end once the other person suffers too. It whispers that peace lies on the other side of retaliation. Yet experience repeatedly proves otherwise.

Vengeance keeps old stories alive. It prolongs anger, feeds bitterness, and chains us to the very people and events we claim we want to move beyond. It turns a single wound into a recurring injury because we keep reopening it in our minds. In seeking to hurt another, we often discover that we have become the primary victim of our own resentment.

History offers countless examples of this reality. Families have been divided for generations. Communities have been torn apart. Nations have gone to war because a few individuals or groups refused to forgive. What could have ended with one offence grew into years of suffering, destruction, and loss of precious lives.

Perhaps this is why human beings are so bad at vengeance.

We rarely stop at what is fair. We usually want a little extra. We tell ourselves we only want justice, but somewhere along the line justice quietly leaves the room and revenge takes its seat. Before long, we are plotting responses that are far greater than the original offence.

It is no surprise that Scripture reminds us:

“Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.” (Romans 12:19)

God seems to understand something about us that we often fail to understand about ourselves. We are not particularly qualified for the role of avenger.

And honestly, who appointed us anyway?

Most of us can barely manage our daily schedules, remember our passwords, or locate where we left our keys yesterday. Yet somehow we imagine we are perfectly equipped to administer flawless cosmic justice.

Never assume the role of an avenger. It is simply not worth it.

Trying to fix hatred with hatred is like diving headfirst into muddy water hoping to clean it. While you’re busy purifying the pond, you are getting covered in mud yourself. It is a no-win game.

Now, forgiveness does not mean making yourself available to be hurt repeatedly. It does not require you to abandon wisdom or healthy boundaries. Sometimes preserving your peace means creating distance. Sometimes it means limiting access. Sometimes it means walking away altogether.

*At the crossroads of forgiveness and vengeance, which would you choose?*

The important question is what you do within that distance.

If the space you create becomes a breeding ground for resentment, revenge fantasies, and secret hopes for another person’s downfall, then the separation has solved very little. The wound is still alive, only hidden from view.

Forgiveness asks for something higher. It asks that even when you protect your peace, you refuse to pollute your heart.

When forgiveness outweighs vengeance, something remarkable happens. You stop carrying battles that no longer belong to you. Your mind becomes lighter. Your spirit becomes freer. Life regains a freshness that anger could never provide.

And perhaps that is what peace has been trying to teach us all along: that freedom is not found in settling scores but in releasing them.

The Simplicity of Returning to Yourself

The simplicity of having peace, joy, and satisfaction is often overlooked because we imagine these things to be difficult to attain. We spend years searching for them in achievements, possessions, relationships, and circumstances. Yet perhaps their simplicity lies elsewhere.

Perhaps peace, joy, and satisfaction are not things we need to acquire. Perhaps they emerge naturally when we let go of their opposites.

Our inherent nature is already inclined toward peace, joy, and contentment. However, just as clouds can obscure the sun for a while, our moment-to-moment thinking can sometimes obscure these qualities, leaving us feeling their opposites. The sun does not cease to exist because clouds appear. Its light remains present even when hidden from view.

The interesting thing about clouds is that they are not held onto. They are allowed to move. They pass through the sky and eventually clear, allowing the sun to come into full manifestation once again.

*Let the light of your inherent nature shine brightly once more*

Human beings often do something different.

When feelings such as resentment, anger, bitterness, worry, or dissatisfaction arise, we innocently hold onto them. We give ourselves countless reasons why we should continue carrying them. We replay old conversations, revisit old wounds, and gather evidence to support our position. Instead of allowing the clouds to pass through, we grip them tightly.

One of the most common justifications is blaming circumstances and other people for what we experience. Yet this is often our folly. In doing so, we outsource our experience of life to circumstances and people. We give them more power than is due over our moment-to-moment experience.

We may even justify our anger toward what people do, as though our anger itself could change a thing. We convince ourselves that holding onto resentment is necessary, reasonable, or deserved. Yet while we are busy carrying these burdens, life continues unfolding through us.

At some point, a different possibility emerges.

We pause long enough to ask ourselves, “Hey, how am I doing in there?”

It is a simple question, but an honest one.

“Am I having a pleasant experience of life?”

And if the answer is no, another question naturally follows:

“Do I need to go on like this?”

These realizations matter because they mark the beginning of a return to ourselves. They remind us that we do not have to surrender our inner experience to temporary disturbances. They help us see that many of the things consuming our attention are passing clouds rather than permanent realities.

The beauty and simplicity of getting back to yourself is not found in controlling every circumstance or changing every person around you. It is found in letting go of the opposites of peace, joy, and satisfaction.

*All you have to do is to gently let go of the opposites*

It is found in recognizing that no justification is more valuable than your own well-being. No grievance is more important than your peace. No resentment is more rewarding than joy. No argument is more fulfilling than contentment.

This does not mean ignoring life’s challenges or pretending difficulties do not exist. It simply means refusing to let temporary clouds define your experience of life.

The sun never struggles to shine. It simply shines when the clouds pass.

In much the same way, peace, joy, and satisfaction often reveal themselves when we stop holding onto what obscures them. Sometimes the path back to yourself is not about gaining anything new. It is simply about letting go and allowing what has always been there to come into full manifestation once again.

The Thing About Anxiety

It is not unusual for us to seek ways to escape uncomfortable feelings. When boredom arises, for instance, many of us instinctively reach for our phones or turn to one habit or another to distract ourselves. There is nothing inherently wrong with these habits. My interest in this piece is not to criticize them, but rather to explore what makes them so appealing in the first place. What is it about these strategies that helps us move away from feelings we would rather not experience?

For the purpose of this discussion, let us focus on anxiety.

WordWeb defines anxiety as “a vague unpleasant emotion that is experienced in anticipation of some (usually ill-defined) misfortune.” While this definition captures the discomfort associated with anxiety, I have come to see it somewhat differently. From where I stand today, anxiety appears to be both impersonal and safe. In fact, I have begun to wonder whether it serves a purpose beyond the temporary discomfort it creates.

Perhaps anxiety exists, in its own way, to prepare us for life. Perhaps it is part of the mind’s attempt to help us navigate uncertainty and respond to what lies ahead. This is why I say that anxiety, and indeed all emotions, are inherently safe. They may be uncomfortable, but discomfort and danger are not the same thing.

On a deeper level, I know this to be true, even if I do not always remember it in the moment. Day by day, my attitudes and behaviors continue to align with this understanding. I am learning that I do not need to live in fear of certain emotions. Anxiety does not need to be resisted, fought, or treated as an enemy. And neither do any of the other feelings that pass through us as human beings.

The thing about anxiety is that it is simply a natural response. The mind, acting innocently enough, attempts to move into the future in search of certainty. It wants answers. It wants guarantees. It wants reassurance that everything will unfold according to plan. The problem, however, is that certainty about the future is something the mind can never fully obtain.

As a result, it begins to speculate. “What if this happens?” “What if they ask me that?” “What if things go wrong?” It constructs scenarios and rehearses outcomes, as though life were obligated to follow the script it has written. Yet experience continually shows us that reality rarely unfolds exactly as imagined. Life has a way of surprising us, both in pleasant and unpleasant ways.

This is where anxiety can become misleading. It pulls our attention away from the life that is actually happening and into a future that exists only in thought. Physically, we remain in the present moment, but mentally we are living somewhere else, emotionally invested in events that have not happened and may never happen.

The more we recognize that our lives are always unfolding in the present, the easier it becomes to see the limitations of anxiety. After all, the past exists only as memory, and the future exists only as imagination. Both are experienced through the lens of the present moment. The now is not merely part of life; it is where life is actually lived.

If I were to summarize my point as simply as possible, it would be this: anxiety, like all emotions, is inherently safe, but it is not nearly as useful as we often assume. We are at our best when we are engaged with the reality before us rather than preoccupied with an unknowable future. Life asks us to respond to what is here, not to what our minds imagine might be waiting around the corner. The more rooted we are in the present moment, the more capable we become of meeting life’s challenges with clarity, wisdom, and resilience.

To My Unborn Child: Part 2

‎Dear Child,
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‎Gratitude is a beautiful thing. In many ways, I believe you become your truest self when you learn how to be genuinely grateful, for gratitude is the language of an awakened soul. It is easy to be thankful when life unfolds according to your desires, when doors open effortlessly and the days seem kind. But true gratitude runs much deeper than pleasant moments and fulfilled expectations. It is born from understanding the nature of life itself.
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‎Life moves in seasons. What rises will one day fall. What burns hot will eventually grow cold. Joy visits, pain visits too. Nothing remains unchanged forever. A grateful heart understands this rhythm and learns not to resist life because of temporary discomfort or become overly attached to fleeting pleasures. Instead, it learns to embrace the fullness of existence with wisdom and trust.
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‎Gratitude is not pretending that everything is perfect. It is not forcing smiles through pain or denying the weight of difficult moments. It goes far beyond positive thinking. Gratitude is the ability to look at life in its entirety and still recognize beauty within it. It is the understanding that even experiences you would never choose can shape you, teach you, redirect you, and sometimes save you from paths you cannot yet see clearly.
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‎Many people allow their preferences to blind them to the endless possibilities hidden within life. They welcome only what feels good and reject everything else. But life is often wiser than our immediate desires. Sometimes what appears to be a setback becomes protection. Sometimes a delay becomes preparation. Sometimes loss creates space for growth that comfort never could have produced. Gratitude allows you to remain open enough to receive the lessons hidden within every experience.
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‎When you begin to live this way, something changes within you. Life starts to feel lighter. Not because problems disappear, but because you are no longer fighting reality every step of the way. You stop carrying the exhausting burden of needing everything to happen exactly as you imagined. You begin to trust the process of life more deeply.
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‎There is a certain peace that comes with this understanding. You feel carried rather than constantly strained. Your spirit becomes less restless. Your heart becomes less heavy. Even in uncertainty, there is calmness because you are no longer measuring life only by immediate outcomes but by the deeper unfolding of purpose and growth.
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‎And so, my child, I hope you learn gratitude early. Not only for the victories and celebrations, but also for the challenges that strengthen your character, the disappointments that deepen your wisdom, and the unexpected turns that reveal new paths. Learn to appreciate life as a whole, not in fragments.
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‎For when gratitude becomes your way of seeing, your walk through life changes. You move with ease instead of constant struggle. You endure without becoming bitter. You keep going without feeling endlessly weary. And in ways difficult to explain, grace seems to meet you along the journey.
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‎To be continued…

With all my love❤️

Dad

To My Unborn Child: Letters for the days ahead

‎Dear Child,
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‎This is perhaps one of the most important letters you will ever read. In it, I share truths that are not only true for my time and generation, but truths that remain true across all ages.
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‎The first lesson I want to share with you is about thoughts and reality. Many people in my day struggle deeply with their thoughts, and I am certain your generation will not be very different. We struggle because of a simple misunderstanding—one that quietly steals our joy, peace, and contentment. Understand this clearly: although thoughts can shape reality, thoughts by themselves are not reality. Only thoughts that are fed with attention stand a chance of influencing your life.
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‎This truth matters because as long as you live, thoughts will come. The good, the bad, the beautiful, the disturbing—every kind imaginable. But what truly makes the difference is how you relate to them. The moment you begin treating every thought as important, especially the unwanted ones, you unknowingly give them power. In trying desperately to resist or fight them, you keep them alive with your attention. But thoughts that are left alone eventually fade away. They lose their force the same way boiling water cools when the fire beneath it is removed.
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‎Do not be afraid of your thoughts, Child. Learn instead to observe them without attachment. Not everything that passes through your mind deserves a seat at the table of your life. Some thoughts are only passing clouds; they were never meant to stay.
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‎Another lesson I want to share with you is about the simplicity of life and the beauty hidden in what we often call the “little” things. Many people spend their lives waiting for monumental moments while missing the richness of ordinary days. We rush toward some “destiny-altering” achievement so consumed by expectation and anxiety that we fail to notice life unfolding around us. We miss the trees dancing in the wind with leaves sparkling from the morning dew. We miss the birds filling the air with songs that ask for nothing in return. We sacrifice these simple gifts on the altar of pursuing “big” things.
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‎Yet the irony is that even the greatest achievements rarely satisfy us for long. Human beings quickly adjust to what they once dreamed about. Before long, the heart begins searching again for something newer, bigger, or different.
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‎But Child, there is another way to live. You can choose to let the simple moments nourish you daily, no matter where life takes you. Pause sometimes. Look at the sky without rushing to the next thing. Notice the movement of trees. Feel the air entering your lungs. Listen fully when someone speaks to you. Sit with the evening breeze. Watch sunlight spill across the ground after rain. These moments may appear ordinary, but they carry a kind of aliveness that many people spend their entire lives searching for elsewhere.
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‎Do not overlook them. A meaningful life is rarely built only on grand moments. More often, it is shaped quietly through small moments fully lived.
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‎And when life becomes difficult—as it sometimes will—these simple things will help return you to yourself.
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‎To be continued…

With all my heart,

Dad