Trapped!

Yesterday, pastor preached about forgiveness in church. 'You must leave your bitterness and hurts when you come to the table.'

Today, I got trapped in a toilet.

Say what? Yes, I was trapped in a toilet. Let me tell you the tragic story.

I locked myself in the toilet today when the latch outside mysteriously shanked into place. Stark naked, dripping in bath water, not a soul in earshot, and no phone line. I was trapped in my own toilet. Was I in trouble or what?

What ensued was a scrum between mind and matter. Mind : stay cool, use your head, there must be a way out of this, JUST STAY CALM! Gut emotions : oh shit, oh no, you're going to die in this hole.., PANIC, PANIC, PANIC!

In 20 seconds, the tussle was over. Claustrophobia rushed and won. Calm analysis of the problem got stampeded. No clever McGyver tricks for me, no! I perched on the toilet, poised my leg in mid air and thrust-kicked the poor door in rapid fire. I confess, I felt a bit like Trinity of Matrix, or Fiona of Shrek, except my captor was no virtual policeman or Robin Hood sidekick.

The frail board of wood and aluminium gave way, allowing me a narrow escape through a pile of plank and debris. I was free at last!

Am I trying to make this a metaphor of something?

Yes. Unforgiveness is a lot like locking myself inside a toilet from the outside. It's festering on the inside, it paralyses the soul, and I'm imprisoned by resentment.

Forgiveness, on the other hand, is like a few good decisive kicks to get out. It's a choice, it's a positive action, and it's taking responsibility to gain my own freedom.

Every hurt presents a choice. Every rejection is a crossroad. Every betrayal is a toilet door.

Choose the way of continued anger, and I'm entering a cesspool of resentment, bitterness, and the death of love. Trapped and locked from the outside.

Choose forgiveness and you are free. The way is wide open to rebuild trust and acceptance. Our deepest desire to live in love is set free.

And if I stay up to date on this forgiveness thing, cleaning the slate every day, I may not have to break any doors.

I've since removed the lock outside, and repaired the door. I pounded on my finger and bled. But hey, it's a small price for big freedom.