Cheryl, I agree, it's really hard to imagine the people of Rwanda truly forgiving one another. I guess it isn't about total forgiveness, like you cross some magic line and all is right again. It must be a matter of degrees. When you think of the alternative, having the people who did the horrendous acts face the people who were hurt by them seems much better than taking the out of sight, out of mind route. What you bring up about the important distinction between forgiveness and reconciliation, and what happens when we fail to make that distinction, is SO important and true. I hadn't thought of it quite that way before. Thank you for bringing it into the conversation. 

Breanna, I'm glad you found my blog, too! Forgiveness is SO tricky—especially when you've been praying for it, and it seems like something God would want to help you grasp, yet it still seems out of reach. And your question about how to measure forgiveness is a really difficult one. I guess maybe it's more of a process—a continuum we travel—rather than a line we cross, sort of like I was saying in response to Cheryl's comment. I don't know, though. With my ex-husband, I just eventually realized that I wasn't harboring resentment any longer. The strain between my brows was gone after interacting with him, and I realized I had compassion and understanding for him. It's not like the process is done, and I get a gold star, but I still think I've reached a peaceful place.

Sarah, that's a really good point about the New Yorker article—people in Rwanda aren't raving about things, and claiming they're perfect. But the fact that they can live together is the fruit of this rather hacked, imperfect tree. This is SO perceptive: "I think I focus way too often on making everything okay, and miss the grace that might be present in simply living through a hard situation honestly with dignity and civility. I think it reminded me that forgiveness (at least human forgiveness) might not have to be perfect in order to be adequate."

PsychMamma, the Amish school shooting story applies perfectly—I'm so glad you brought it up! I'd love to read that book and see what the common threads might be. I think one is the idea that in extraordinary circumstances, humans can step completely outside of the realm of our everyday knee jerk responses, into a place that defies reason and understanding. It's a suspension of disbelief and the act of having blind faith in something better, beyond the pain.