If you're old enough, you may remember the 1993 movie Homeward Bound. In the film, a young dog named Chance attempts to catch a fish for dinner, only to have a crab latch onto his lip. As he desperately tries to shake it off, he repeatedly whines, "I don't want it, I don't want it, I don't want it." It's a humorous scene, but over the years, that phrase has taken on a much deeper meaning for me.
Jesus told a parable in Matthew 18:21-35 about a servant whose enormous debt was forgiven by a king. Yet when that same servant encountered someone who owed him a much smaller debt, he refused to extend the same mercy. When the king learned what had happened, he became angry and punished the servant he had originally forgiven, turning him over to be tormented until the debt was paid in full.

Matthew 18:35 

"This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother or sister from your heart."

But how do we forgive when someone has intentionally harmed us and left us with trauma to overcome?
For a long time, I believed I had forgiven someone. Yet my mind continually replayed conversations and scenarios. Memories of traumatic events resurfaced without warning. Thoughts of vengeance crept in, and sometimes I found myself rehearsing what I would say if I ever had the opportunity to confront that person again.
Rumination is a symptom of complex trauma that I know all too well. The best word I can use to describe it is torment.
As I dug deeper and examined my own heart, God revealed things I had overlooked early in the relationship, red flags I had ignored that eventually contributed to my trauma. He also showed me wounds and broken places within myself that had caused me to tolerate destructive behaviors. Once I recognized those issues, I was able to grieve them, begin the healing process, develop self-compassion, and forgive myself.
Only then was I truly able to forgive the other person by releasing all judgment into God's hands.

Romans 12:19 

Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay," says the Lord.

Unfortunately, it is often those closest to us who cause the deepest wounds. Through shared connections and circumstances, this individual can still trigger emotional pain from time to time. When that happens, my nervous system becomes activated. I feel the urge to flee, and my mind can quickly slip back into a cycle of rumination.
Over time, I have learned not to escape through dissociation, whether by shopping, endlessly scrolling social media, or finding other distractions. Instead, I allow myself to acknowledge the pain and anger. These emotions are not sinful; they are part of the human experience God created. The danger comes when we hold onto them too long.
That is when torment returns.

Whenever my thoughts begin spiraling, I picture Chance with that crab attached to his lip and hear his desperate cry: "I don't want it, I don't want it, I don't want it." Then I pray. I consciously release those thoughts, emotions, and judgments to God, asking Him to fill me with His Holy Spirit.

Jesus tells us in Matthew 18:22 to forgive not seven times, but seventy-seven times. Forgiveness is often not a one-time event; it is a continual surrender. Sometimes we must forgive the same offense repeatedly as painful memories resurface.

Unforgiveness is heavy; it is never beautiful. God never intended us to carry those burdens alone.

Instead, He has given us spiritual armor. The armor of God creates a boundary that the enemy's arrows cannot easily penetrate. When accusations, bitterness, and torment come, we can raise the shield of faith and extinguish those flaming arrows. Read Ephesians 6:10-17 and create that picture in your mind.

When I surrender my pain, anger, and weakness to God, He exchanges them for His strength.

2 Corinthians 12:9 

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

Today, whenever torment tries to attach itself to my thoughts, I remember Chance's words and smile. Then I let go, release it to God, and say once again:

"I don't want it."

May mercy, peace, and love be yours in abundance.

Rae