Groundhog Day

On Thursday during a traditional, annual celebration that is much older than I am, Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow, signifying six more weeks of winter.  Indeed, the annual Groundhog Day celebration in Punxsutawney, PA draws tens of thousands of people each year -- not to mention those who watch on national television --  to watch a rodent (not derogatory -- groundhogs are rodents of the family Sciuridae) "predict" the weather for the next six weeks.

Since the early 1990's, I have been unable to think of Groundhog Day without also thinking about Groundhog Day, the Harold Ramis film starring Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell.  While I don't find this film as hilarious as others might, I did follow a nudge to watch it this year on the evening prior to Groundhog Day.  (Note: It's not my purpose here to re-hash the plot, so if you don't remember it well, you'll have to watch it again.)

While viewing Groundhog Day this year, I wondered how many "days" were actually represented, so I looked it up.  Some folks claim that Phil Connors (Murray's character) wast trapped in February 2 for 10 years, while others say they have counted 38 (or so) days in the movie.  I don't think the number of days is really the point.  Whether it took Phil two days or 20 years to "get it right," I think the point was that he eventually reached his goal by using what he learned previously and acting differently (sometimes better, sometimes not) from before.

The idea of doing things over until you get it right is appealing to me.  I think learning from mistakes is the best way to learn.  Think of Thomas Edison's attempts to invent the light bulb.  Many different iterations of this story exist, but I prefer this one:  His friend asked him "Isn't it a shame, with the tremendous amount of work you have done, that you haven't been able to get any results?"  Edison answered, "Results!  Why, man, I have gotten lots of results!  I know several thousand things that won't work!" (Edison: His Life and Inventions by Frank Dyer and T.C. Martin)

Doing things over until you get them right is great advice when it comes to the problems or tasks of life, but when it comes to relationships, we have to remember that people are not light bulbs in a laboratory.  Receiving forgiveness from someone when me mess up is a great grace, but human beings -- being human -- just might not have it in them to forgive several thousand times, or even seven (or seventy-seven, or seventy times seven) times.  Ideally -- and Scripturally -- we should always forgive, but in reality, that does not always happen.  As difficult as it is to forgive over and over, I think it is more difficult to be the non-recipient of forgiveness.  When you know you've made a mistake and have asked for forgiveness, but forgiveness is not forthcoming, you have to find a way to live with yourself.

So, today, I wonder:  How do you live with non-forgiveness?