Sanding Out Gouges in My Life

     When I was refinishing an old oak table recently I ran across a gouge left decades ago when one of our little girls was exploring that forks could be weapons. Could I sand it out? No, that would leave an ugly divot. Besides, the pockmark is part of the table’s history.
     I carry gouges in the tabletop of my life, too. I became aware of a particular one when Duane and I bought that table unfinished and I spent hours sanding it. The process of smoothing it raised some grain in my emotions - a scar from a job where my boss wielded authority in such a way I was left emotionally abused. As I sanded, anger and grief rose in me, and my tears spattered across the unfinished wood. Was reconciliation possible? I didn’t think so, but I asked God for compassion and forgiveness for her. Years later with trepidation I hosted her for a meal at that table. The conversation was cordial - but not honest. Unsatisfying.
     More years passed. The woman died. Here I was sanding the table again, and the old pain surfaced. My former boss still wields power over me from the grave. How much better it would have been if we had come clean with each other.
​     A gouge remains in me. But the hurt is less. The scar is smaller. And in the unfathomable way that God turns the tables on our troubles, it reminds me of how important it is to forgive because I have been forgiven much.