Best 2898 quotes in «forgiveness quotes» category

I didn’t set out to commit a crime. I certainly didn’t set out to hurt anyone. When I was working at Enron, you know, I was kind of a hero, because I helped the company make its numbers every quarter. And I thought I was doing a good thing. I thought I was smart... but I wasn’t. I wake up every morning, and I take out my prison ID card, which I have with me here today. And it makes certain that I remember all the people. I remember that I harmed so many people in what I did. It encourages me to try to do the little things that I can to make amends for what I did.

Idolatry happens when you worship or praise anything excessively to the point of causing you to believe it reigns supreme. All things on this earth are temporal, even your very own desires. Be careful that you do not create idols to worship.

I’d like to share with you a parable: the parable of Bob the Angel. A girl was walking down a darkly lit city street late at night. A man jumped out from the shadows and attacked her, suddenly she was suffocating and disoriented as hands clasped around her neck and the force of his attack started to push her down. She tried to yell as she struggled to pull his arms from her neck while she crumpled backwards to the ground, “God . . . help me!” The next thing she remembers—just as the fear consumed her, and right as she disappeared into the misery and despair of helplessness—was a loud crash and an explosion of glass which rained down upon her and her attacker. The assailant’s lifeless body was suspended above her, held from collapsing on her by an unknown force, and then pulled away from hovering over her and dropped onto the pavement beside her. She opened her eyes in the faint shadowy light, to see black matted hair and a long, black beard framing the eyes of a man. The smell of alcohol on his breath would have knocked her out if the adrenaline was not still trilling through her veins. There he stood, God’s angel, off-kilter and drunk, with a broken whiskey bottle in his hand. “You probably shouldn’t be walking through here this late at night,” was all he said as he turned away. “Wait! What’s your name?” she asked, still stunned half sitting up on the ground. All she heard as he walked away was his trailing voice calling, “Bob’s as good as any. . . .” An angel is a messenger, and sometimes we only want letters sent in white envelopes with beautiful gold print, when sometimes a simple “no” on the back of a gum wrapper is what we are offered. Every postcard from heaven does not come with a picture of the sunset there, nor should it. If it is an answer we want, an answer we will get. As far as pretty postcards, there are many others willing to send us that. If not harps and gold-tipped wings, what then is the mark of an angel? An answer which pierces your soul, and which inspires a question that invites you to look outside of yourself and up to God. God is very objective; He wants to make us think, to engage the faculties we have been given, and to learn from the messengers he sends us. He wants us in the ark before the flood; he could come himself—or send a Noah—but most of the time he sends Bob. Bob is in you, Bob is in me, Bob is in the emotionalized, sarcastic, mocking, patronizing, proud or foolish person which points out meaningful things to us in the worst possible moments, or in the worst possible way.

I don't forgive people, but I don't let them bother me either!

I don’t have to let anyone use me. I don’t have to bend the truth. Even if I’m not ready to forgive just yet, I don’t have to be tied to my scars, to the people who wounded me, or to the anger and fear that grew out of it. I can be myself and be honest and not be afraid. Not of getting hurt or of hurting others.

I don't know you, But I love you, Just as God loves me and you. The sun and the moon are opposing forces, But they still greet each other, Peacefully, As one awakens in the morning, Just as the other goes to sleep. Life has pounded me down and thrashed me around, Time and time again, But I always get right back up, Because I still love life - Just as the earth still loves The rain. ENDURANCE by Suzy Kassem THE SPRING FOR WISDOM Copyright 1993

I don’t want God's forgiveness. And He’s not getting mine. ~Harry Silver

I don’t want your apology. I want your obedience.

I don't want you to feel sorry for me. I want you to forgive yourself for being human, just like you would forgive anyone else.

I dream of you every day. I make up scenarios where everything is forgiven, where everything is fixed. Deep down I know our situation is unfixable, and even worse - you don't want it. But I do. I want it so bad I look past your wrongdoings. I forgive you even though you never apologized. I'm just a fool. A fool made for your amusement. Forever yours.

I eventually came to understand that in harboring the anger, the bitterness and resentment towards those that had hurt me, I was giving the reins of control over to them. Forgiving was not about accepting their words and deeds. Forgiving was about letting go and moving on with my life. In doing so, I had finally set myself free.

If all you are looking for is a miracle you are wide open to follow the antichrist and the false prophets because they are going to have a big league of signs and wonders ministry. If signs and wonders do not bring glory and honour to Jesus Christ, then you must be watching a false prophet whose anointing does not come from the Holy Spirit of God.

If any man ceases to attack me, I never remember the past against him.

...if a person remains in a state of unforgiveness the Spirit of the Lord will allow tormentors to enter him. That's what Christ told Peter when the disciple asked, "Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Up to seven times?" (Matt. 18:21).

If Christians always seemed to be the most intelligent and the most righteous of men, I'd be a skeptic.

...I feel pity that she will never fully understand what it is to be loved and forgiven, then loved even more.” Pastel Orphans

I feel so blessed to be alive and so blessed to have to have a father that loves me no matter how much wrong I do in this world.

I feel that 'Thank you' is about the best prayer that anyone could say. A sincere prayer of Thanks expresses extreme gratitude, humility, understanding.

I felt ashamed for having judged him so harshly without knowing the real boy. His one offense against me―goaded by Charlie’s bullying character―was easy to forgive.

If ever there was a dwelling worthy of the Creator, it would be... in a truly Thankful heart.

If everyone decided to forgive at least one person who hurt them by the end of the year, the world would be filled with people exchanging hugs and kisses, instead of words and bullets.

If Ever You Feel Down, Remember, 100Trillion Cells Make Up Your Body and ALL each of them cares About is You. Our body is made up of about 100,000 Billions of cells (100 Trillion)... all living working and sacrificing themselves completely for the exclusive benefit, well-being, and survival of the whole (which is you). We are each of us a universe unto ourselves. To put 100 Trillion in perspective... Jeremy Harper counted from one to one million in about 3 months. He did NOTHING but count, eat, and sleep (minimal). During this time; he didn't leave his home nor even shave. And that's only one MILLION, so if you ignore the fact that pronunciation takes much, much longer on ever larger numbers (more than a minute each), counting to 100 Trillion would take more than 25 Million years. It's awe inspiring to think that 100 Trillion cells (worlds) are counting ON me also, my decisions determine (to a large degree) whether they are allowed to continue living and experiencing in this life or not. Knowing all of this, who could realistically say that there are no miracles. We each have over 100 Trillion miracles working FOR us and depending ON us each and every second of every day. So when praying, I must always keep in mind that each word is in behalf of 100 Trillion worlds. OUR Father Who Art in Heaven...

If God said, “I forgive you,” to a man who hated his brother, and if (as is impossible) that voice of forgiveness should reach the man, what would it mean to him? How would the man interpret it? Would it not mean to him, “You may go on hating. I do not mind it. You have had great provocation, and are justified in your hate”? No doubt God takes what wrong there is, and what provocation there is, into the account; but the more provocation, the more excuse that can be urged for the hate, the more reason, if possible, that the hater should be delivered from the hell of his hate, that God’s child should be made the loving child that He meant him to be. The man would think, not that God loved the sinner, but that He forgave the sin, which God never does. Every sin meets its due fate—inexorable expulsion from the paradise of God’s Humanity.

If he couldn't forgive you for what you'd done, it was clear to me he was never truly your destiny.

If, however, thou hast a suffering friend, then be a resting-place for his suffering; like a hard bed, however, a camp-bed: thus wilt thou serve him best. And if a friend doeth thee wrong, then say: "I forgive thee what thou hast done unto me; that thou hast done it unto THYSELF, however--how could I forgive that!" Thus speaketh all great love: it surpasseth even forgiveness and pity. One should hold fast one's heart; for when one letteth it go, how quickly doth one's head run away!

If we confess our sins, we shall be cleansed.

If we can't forget, how can we forgive? I believe that forgiving can't be done by willpower alone. I can will myself to write out my own memories and feelings. I can will myself to imagine onto the page how someone else may have felt. I can will myself to research someone else's life in order to better understand what happened. But I don't think I can forgive by simply willing to forgive. Forgiving happens to us when our hearts are ready. Sometimes it takes the form of working on our own story until quietly, often surprisingly, we simply let go of the hurt. Sometimes forgiving makes it possible to pick up the pieces of a broken relationship and begin again. Sometimes it means letting a relationship go. We can't forgive through willpower. What we can do is work toward readiness of heart. Writing as a spiritual practice can be that kind of work. When our heart is ready, we often don't even know it until forgiveness happens within us. It is a gift.

I don't know if you have children of your own, Mariamjo, but if you do I pray that God look after them and spare you the grief that I have known. I still dream of them. I still dream of my dead children. I have dreams of you too, Mariam jo. I miss you. I miss the sound of your voice, your laughter. I miss reading to you, and all those times we fished together. Do you remember all those times we fished together? You were a good daughter, Mariam jo, and I cannot ever think of you without feeling shame and regret. Regret… When it comes to you, Mariamjo, I have oceans of it. I regret that I did not see you the day you came to Herat. I regret that I did not open the door and take you in. I regret that I did not make you a daughter to me, that l let you live in that place for all those years. And for what? Fear of losing face? Of staining my so called good name? How little those things matter to me now after all the loss, all the terrible things I have seen in this cursed war. But now, of course, it is too late. Perhaps this is just punishment for those who have been heartless, to understand only when nothing can be undone. Now all I can do is say that you were a good daughter, Mariamjo, and that I never deserved you. Now all I can do is ask for your forgiveness. So forgive me, Mariamjo. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me.

I don’t know why we fight. It takes much too effort to stay mad at you. To dodge your skin in the hallway and leave the kitchen without bringing you a treat. It takes much too effort to stare at the sink so my eyes don’t smile at you in the mirror. It takes much too effort to look away as we undress and lie apart in the now bigger bed. It takes much too effort to stiffen my body because sleepy limbs forget fights and pride is always lost in dreams. It takes much too effort to awaken every hour to make sure we are islands with a gulf of white sheets separating us. I dread the light peeking through the parted curtains and empathise with your groans — I didn’t get any sleep either. I really don’t know why we fight. It takes much too effort to stay mad at one another when it’s so easy for us to love.

I don't need to go anywhere, I just need to sit quietly with God for a time. Kind of like a cell phone, turn it off, plug it in, and let it charge.

If I did anything right it was when I decided to practice forgiveness and free my heart from pain.

If I must have regrets, I Pray that all of them are for fearlessly jumping in with both feet, rather than for having never sampled the water at all.

I find forgiveness overrated. There are times and places when it’s appropriate. But not when the demand that you forgive is used to keep you in your place.

If I let the past and my goals be the only thing that drives me in life, I will never know the meaning of being happy.

I find my greatest Power when I am Kind.

I firmly believe a great many prayers are not answered because we're not willing to forgive someone.

I find myself at peace with who I am as I realize I am one with the intention that underwrites the universe. This intention is Love. As Love is ultimately the only reality. And as Love is source, it is love who I truly am. I am its child. And love is my home. So I am love. And I am loved. And I love all. And as such I embody all that is Love without condition. As I was created in its image. I am therefore unconditional love. I am understanding. I am forgiveness. I am compassion. I am patience. I am kindness. I am healing. I am joy. I am playfulness. I am happiness. I am goodness. I am harmony. I am peace. And all that what matters to me. Let these then also be my blessings for all. As all is love and all are loved. So be it. So it is. It is done. Love, as all is, as it always is.

If it helps you. I forgive you. But i have learned in recent weekd that seeking forgiveness from others is meaningless unless you can forgive yourself.

If knowledge is lacking, your destruction is inevitable. Hosea 4:6

I forgave everybody, I gave up, I got drunk.

I forgive,” Penny said. “But I don’t forget. I’ll remember the kind of gum you were chewing when you did me wrong.

If only I could touch what’s broken in me, and tell it: “I’m sorry”.

I forgive him and like water draining from the sand after a wave, the power he held over me disappears. A slow smile rises on my face.

I forgive myself...today I forgive myself

I forgive you, but I won’t forget what you did…not in some threatening, I don’t really forgive you kind of way… but just because what you did was shitty and really hurt me and I can’t imagine it suddenly disappearing from my memory. In a way, it’s even cooler that I’ll remember that shitty thing you did to me, and you’ll remember that shitty thing I did to you. That means we didn’t need to forget that we hurt each other in order to love each other still. We figured out a way to forgive each other, for real, and still be friends. How beautiful, yes? Let’s never forget that, either.

I forgave her many years ago ... It's she who blames herself, but she can't see that. It's easier to project blame into the eyes of others and defend yourself against that than to find it within yourself, where there's no possible defense.

I forgive, but I also learn a lesson. I won’t hate you, but I’ll never get close enough for you to hurt me again. I can’t let my forgiveness become foolish.

I forgive you. But just because I forgive you doesn't mean I want to continue to be your friend. It doesn't even mean I respect you as a man because you are not. You are a miserably scared little boy who can't tell when to let go and when to hold on. You will never be worth my time nor my friendship.

I forgive you for the footprints you left on my heart and soul. Forgiveness I forgive me for not being attentive to the point that you were in it only for you. I forgive so I can keep moving ahead without the weight of the footprints you left on my heart and soul.

I forgive you." The power of those words rushes through me, purging all the torturous memories of my youth. It gushes into all the cracks my mom's neglect and addictions have created, filling them with a mercy that's not my own.