That is how forgiveness works.
Like life, the past is something you can choose to give away instead of keep.

To forgive is to give away a closely held past in the present moment.  In a real sense, it is to walk into the past and release the poisonous link from the chain of your existence before it ever happened. And miraculously when you look down at the infected wound on your flank, it is healed.  Just an old scar with the echo of something forgotten. The negative meaning, the pain, somehow unobtainable because you have finally chosen to let it go in the swift river.  The injury and the wound set free to be spoken aloud with the tongues of angels in the mouths of man.  

I love it when a sudden flip comes along.  I think Jesus is the great inverter. He reaches into your mouth, which never shuts up—and into the throat of the universe—grabs your soul and pulls it up and turns everything inside out.  And he says, “See, you’ve been looking at everything the wrong way.”   Christ not only turns it opposite, he turns it inside out as well, “You think you’re looking through a hole, but the hole is actually looking through you.”

The flip for me this week was your interpretation of  “…do not throw your pearls to pigs.”
You said, “I don’t think we read that correctly. We always turn the focus onto the stupid pigs.  But I think Jesus is saying it’s not the pigs that are stupid. It’s you.”
FLIP!
Why would you give pearls to a pig? 
Why would you give others what YOU want?  Why would you give anyone else what YOU want?   It’s what YOU want, not them.  You’re the one that likes pearls, not them.   It’s like giving your wife a new basketball and then being hurt that she doesn’t like it.  Or like working all day cleaning the pool and getting the backyard ready for this great thing you're going to give your nephew and his teenage friends—and then no one ever even goes back there.  And then you sit around nursing your hurt and trampled feelings while everybody does something else and has a great time.  Maybe its because you wanted to be upset and martyred? Hmm?
 
I like church. So should you. I like heaven. So should you. You should like this. Don’t you understand what I am giving you?  Why don’t you like what I like?  Why don't you like what I am giving you?


Why is it I don’t know what others want? 
Maybe it’s because I never asked.
Maybe I never asked—I just told. Maybe it’s because I never knocked—I just kicked in. Maybe it’s because I never sought—I already knew. 


And by the way, do I even know what I want? Or even better, do I even know who I am?  How do I like to be approached, talked to, and treated?