Forgiveness isn’t free. It ain’t easy. It is a chisel and a block of stone. It is a rock and a chain around the ankle, with a long journey to the top of a mountain. Forgiveness isn’t easy. It shouldn’t be. It would be strange if it were. It would be some sort of strange force-field that throbs and hums. It would engulf us in it’s uncanny warmth and lull is to sleep, suck our blood, and inhibit the re-uptake of our neurotransmitters. Let me out of this forgiveness field. Let me back to the cement streets and the tall trees. Let me back to that sweet realm where words still meant something. Where forgiveness was earned (and deserved). Where God dwells in real ways, and humility is tangible.