Have you ever noticed how some people seem to have an uncanny ability to remember every wrong committed against them? They can recall with perfect clarity the exact moment someone cut them off in traffic three years ago or precisely what their spouse said during an argument in 1987. It's like they have a steel trap for memories, but only the unpleasant ones.

I confess, I can be that person from time to time. My mental filing cabinet remains stuffed with folders labeled "Times People Have Wronged Me," complete with cross-references and color-coding. It's exhausting being the keeper of such detailed records, yet I often can't seem to help myself.

Recently, while reading my Bible, I stumbled across a verse that convicted my record-keeping heart:

"He that covereth a transgression seeketh love; but he that repeateth a matter separateth very friends." (Proverbs 17:9)

Oh, how this verse speaks to my struggle! Here I am, maintaining detailed records and frequently "repeating the matter" to anyone who will listen. I'm doing exactly what this verse warns against, even though I know better.

You see, when we constantly replay offenses in our minds or share them with others, we're not just remembering; we're reinforcing the hurt. It's like picking at a scab. The wound never gets a chance to heal correctly. We think we're protecting ourselves by keeping these memories fresh, but in reality, we're just prolonging our pain and potentially damaging relationships.

The verse presents a beautiful alternative: covering transgressions and seeking love. This doesn't mean we pretend the offense never happened or that we become doormats. Instead, it's about choosing to handle offenses with grace and discretion—something I'm still learning to do.

Think about it this way: When you cover something, you're not destroying it. You're simply choosing not to display it. Just as we might throw a lovely tablecloth over a scratched table, we can choose to cover offenses with grace, focusing instead on restoration and love.

This principle transforms relationships when we apply it. Instead of being known as the person who always brings up past hurts (guilty as charged), we can become known as someone who helps others move forward. Instead of being the one who keeps detailed records of wrongs (I'm still working on this), we can be the one who keeps detailed records of grace received and given.

It's worth noting that God Himself models this behavior. Psalm 103:12 tells us that He removes our transgressions "as far as the east is from the west." If the Creator of the universe can choose to forgive and not constantly remind us of our failures, surely we can strive to extend the same grace to others, even when it doesn't come naturally.

Today, I'm practicing the fine art of forgetting. Will you join me? Let's be intentional about covering offenses rather than exposing them, seeking love rather than retribution, and building bridges rather than burning them. After all, none of us wants our own transgressions constantly repeated. Perhaps it's time we extended that same courtesy to others, one small step at a time.