Seventy Times Seven

My son, my daughter, I know you've already forgiven that person more times than you can count on your fingers. And the question that lingers is: until when? Until when will I have to forgive the same hurt again, the same pattern, the same disappointment?

I didn't ask you to count. I asked you to stop counting. Seventy times seven isn't an exact number for you to tally in a notebook. It's my way of saying that forgiveness has no limit after which you get to stop loving. That doesn't mean accepting everything in silence, or becoming a doormat for anyone to walk over. It means your heart doesn't have to harden with every new offense.

I forgive you more times than you realize, every single day, in things you don't even notice. Not because I'm naive, but because I chose to love you with no expiration date. I only ask that you let that same love pass through you to the next person.