- Backpacks and Grudges
- Choosing to Forgive
When we were in middle school, the guys in our church youth group went on a couple of 30-mile hikes on the Appalachian Trail. Our leader, Tad Walton, was an Air Force vet who wanted to show us how to survive in the wild. Oh, there are stories to tell. One night a bear was sniffing around right outside of our tent. Another night the creek we camped beside flooded, and half of us woke up nearly underwater. The next day we had to run a zip line across that swollen stream to get ourselves and our equipment to the other side.
We didn’t take baths for a week, so you know we had a blast. Except for one guy. On the first day of the hike, one particular individual complained about everything. His feet hurt, his legs were tired, his backpack was too heavy. He whined and whined, and then he would sneak away every time we had work to do. Whenever we needed to gather and chop firewood or set up the tents or hang the food out of the reach of bears, this guy was nowhere around. But when the fire was going, and the food was ready to eat, he would suddenly show up.
So on the second day, we decided to fix this problem. Every time we got a chance, we would put rocks in his backpack. Whenever we would take a break, someone would slip in a rock or two. All day long, he was complaining that his backpack was heavy. He kept saying that it felt like it was getting heavier and heavier by the hour.
That night we were emptying our backpacks of the things we would need for supper and bed, and he opened his and saw those rocks. He went ballistic. It was glorious.
Nobody wants to go on a hike with a backpack full of rocks. Many of us, though, are doing that without even realizing it. We’re carrying around a weight that is serving absolutely no purpose other than to tire us out and wear us down. We call it “holding a grudge.” Someone has hurt us, so we pick up a backpack full of anger and resentment and the desire to get even, and we put it on our backs and carry it around everywhere we go.
The strange thing is that we convince ourselves that carrying around this grudge is somehow punishing the person who hurt us. We think that our anger at them is hurting them. But we’re the one carrying around a backpack full of rocks, and we can’t run the race God wants us to run because of that weight. Face it – you’re not hurting them. You’re hurting yourself.
At the heart of a grudge is the desire for revenge. We want to see that person pay the price for what they did to us.
Has someone hurt you so badly that you’re still carrying around a grudge? Do you secretly, or maybe not so secretly, want to see them suffer?
God says some important things to us about repaying others for the hurt they’ve caused. In Colossians 3, Paul writes…
Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. (Colossians 3:12-13)
And then there’s this passage…
Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” To the contrary, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. (Romans 12:17-21)
Vengeance doesn’t belong to us. It isn’t up to us to retaliate or even to wish evil on that person. As someone said long ago, when we take matters into our own hands, we take them out of God’s hands. The bottom line is that God is the only one who holds the right to vengeance.
Someone has hurt you, betrayed you, damaged you in ways you can’t even explain. But you don’t have to hold a grudge. You don’t have to carry around a constant desire to punish them. Let God handle that. He’s the only one who knows what’s best for you and them, so give him control.
Of course, doing that requires faith. Are you willing to exercise that faith?
Take off your backpack, and walk on without it. You won’t miss it. It was just dead weight. Take it off. Your hike will be much easier, and you’ll go places you could have never gone while carrying it.