Insight for Today
A Daily Devotional by Chuck Swindoll

In the last few decades, we have witnessed the emergence of groups like the Moonies, the Hare Krishnas, various New Agers, Scientologists, and numerous other cults.

Christians talk a lot about serving and giving and releasing rights and putting down self—and we should. It's part of the whole Christian package. It's expected, to an extent. But isn't it possible to go overboard on stuff like this?

Comparing the acts of forgiving and forgetting, I think forgetting is the tougher assignment. Why? Because forgetting is something shared with no other person. It's a solo flight.

I love the apostle Paul's attitude revealed in his words: "I press on toward the goal" (Philippians 3:14). Those men and women who refuse to get bogged down in and anchored to the past are those who pursue the objectives of the future.

"I forget what is behind" is a statement that assures us Paul was not the type to live in the past. He says, in effect, "I disregard my own accomplishments as well as others' offenses against me.

Remember these words from yesterday? "I have not arrived . . . I forget what is behind . . . I move on to what is ahead." Over the next few days, I want to examine each part of this statement from the pen of the apostle Paul.

Yesterday, we talked about what it means to "forget" when other people do bad deeds to us. Today, I want to address forgetting when we do good deeds to others. In other words, once our own good deeds are done, they're done.

A question flashes through my head as I write these words: can our minds actually allow us to forget? The way God has made us with that internal filing system we call "memory"—it is doubtful we can fully forget.

"I'll forgive . . . but I'll never forget." We say and hear that so much that it's easy to shrug it off as "only natural." That's the problem! It is the most natural response we can expect. Not supernatural.

There is enough in the past few days' worth of devotionals to keep us thinking (and forgiving) for weeks. But there are a couple of specific applications that need to be considered.

Yesterday we read Jesus's parable of the king who forgave his servant—who then refused to forgive a fellow-servant. From this parable, we learned that to refuse to forgive is hypocritical. But there's a second lesson.

Over the past few days, we have examined Jesus's words to us when we have offended someone. Tough steps . . . yet essential. But what about when someone offends us? The apostle Peter asked Jesus a similar question.

Let's say you've mustered the courage to approach someone you've offended. You've confessed what you did with sincerity. You've asked for forgiveness. But he or she refuses to forgive you. Now what?

Matthew 5:23–24 describes in a nutshell the correct response and procedure to follow when we have been in the wrong and have offended someone.

When wrong has been done against another person, there are only two possibilities of blame. But whether we are responsible for the offense or we are the recipients of it, the first move is always ours.

Truth be told, it's God's forgiveness of us that makes possible our forgiving others. When on the cross Jesus Christ paid in full the penalty of our sin, God's wrath was expressed against Him—the One who took our place.

This is a true story, told to me by a young seminary student I met years ago. I'll call him Aaron (not his real name). Late one spring Aaron was praying about having a significant ministry the following summer.

Shortly after World War II came to a close, Europe began picking up the pieces. Much of the old country had been ravaged by war and was in ruins. Perhaps the saddest sight of all was that of little orphaned children . . .

A full year before the apostle Paul wrote to the Corinthian church, they had begun a project. No doubt they were filled with enthusiasm, the thrill of a fresh beginning. But with the passing of time, the newness had worn off.

I'll never forget an actual situation I heard about on the radio some years ago. A woman in West Palm Beach, Florida, died alone at the age of 71. The coroner's report was tragic. "Cause of death: malnutrition."