I carry a grudge. I did this color thing from a book and I’m a “blue.” Blues are caretakers, but they carry a grudge and have high expectations of others. I have such a sense of outrage when I’m wronged and fantasize revenge. One really bad side effect of that is that I also feel that way toward myself.

But, because I’m a religious person, I don’t feel good about myself when I’m in that unforgiving mode. And then I beat myself up even more. We are supposed to forgive.

My sister’s grandchildren were horribly abused by their stepmother, who is in prison for what she did. My sister speaks to me often of her struggle to forgive. She prays for this woman. She wants to forgive her, to feel peace. But she would also like to torture this woman as badly as the woman tortured the children.

I, too, pray to be able to forgive. I pray for the people who’ve wronged me and ask God to bless them and to help me to put the bitterness aside.

The conclusion I’ve come to with this is that sometimes this is all the forgiveness that’s humanly possible. When the grievance is so outrageous, so life altering, I believe the best I can do is want to forgive them. I’ve not forgiven, but I’m in the process of forgiving.

I hear platitudes about forgiveness, scriptures, and get preached to sometimes. All this makes me tired because they often come from a person who has no concept of being truly injured. We’re not talking somebody calling us a bitch, we’re talking about–in my sister’s case, say—someone who tortured children.

I often refer to the book “The Sunflower” by Simon Weisenthal. I believe this is one of the best treatments of the subject of forgiveness in the history of time. Some sins can only be wiped out by God. And until then, we can be in the process of forgiving. And call it good.