The Role of Forgiveness in Healing from Abuse

Address given at a BYU conference

October 23, 2002

Elaine Walton, Ph.D.

 

            Healing from abuse is a long-term, sometimes a life-long process.  Many of us are attempting to live as model Church members while hiding ugly scars.  I suspect that some of you here today have scars.  Or perhaps you are eager to help a loved one who is in need of healing. In any case, I am going to speak to you as though you were all victims of abuse.

            Abuse is far more prevalent than we used to think.  I could spend most of my time this afternoon just relating incidents of abuse that have been shared with me by my clients.  I could tell you horror stories that might seem unbelievable—incidents of brutal rape, incest, or ritual and satanic abuse.  But I’m not going to tell you those horror stories; I’ll spare you the ugly details, even though I am tempted to share them.  I am tempted because I want to validate the pain that has been inflicted on anyone within the sound of my voice.  I want the world to know how horrible it was, how unfair it was, and how deserving victims are of special care.

            Victims of abuse crave validation—perhaps even more than reparation.  In therapy sessions my clients cry out just for their pain to be acknowledged.  That need for acknowledgment makes sexual abuse particularly devastating, because it happens in secret and victims often bear their suffering alone.  Let’s compare for a moment the grieving of a woman who lost her husband through death with the grieving of a woman who was sexually abused.  For this analogy I will refer to Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s (1969) five stages of the grieving process:  Denial, anger, guilt and bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance and resolution.

            Friends and family are usually close at hand to help a widow face the reality of a death.  They forgive the woman for being angry, reassure her that the death was not her fault, support her through her depression, and introduce her to a new kind of life without a husband—all of which helps her progress toward acceptance and resolution.

            I don’t wish to minimize the pain of the grieving widow.  However, I would like to contrast her grieving process with that of a woman who has been sexually abused.  The abuse victim will probably have a very different reaction from her family and friends (if, in fact, they are even aware of the abuse).  Sexual abuse is ugly, and no one wants to confront it.  So this woman is encouraged to stay in denial and to suppress her anger.  With no validation for her pain, she will probably turn her anger inward; that seems to her the acceptable way to experience her grief.  In response to her guilt and depression she either becomes a scapegoat for more guilt, or she is blamed for her negative attitude.  How many times have you heard the expressions “Just put a smile on your face,”  or “Why can’t you just forgive and forget?”  She is stuck in the grieving process, and she likely will become either an aggressive complainer or a helpless dependent.  She continually struggles in the best way she knows how to validate her pain so that she can complete the grieving process.  But instead of getting validation, she gets more stuck.  People grow tired of her nagging complaining attitude, or they become irritated with her inability to think for herself.  Does any of this sound familiar?

I would like to introduce you to my client Linda.  (Linda is not her real name.)  She was sexually abused by her uncle over a period of several years when she was young.  Now, at age 35, she has never been in a healthy romantic relationship and is not sure she ever wants to be because she does not trust men.  She has protected herself from men by becoming overweight, and she has a lot of health problems.  She has a job that pays minimum wage, and she is always struggling financially.  For every well-meaning suggestion, her answer is always the same:  “Yeah, but . . .”  There is always a reason why she cannot improve her life, and it usually relates directly or indirectly to the fact that she was abused as a child.  For example, she ate junk food as a way of nurturing herself when she was young, and it is too late now to change her habits; or, because of the shame she experienced as a child, she avoided social situations and never learned how to make close friends, and now it is too late.  She is stuck in a life of misery.  But she is convinced that if her family would just acknowledge the abuse and if her uncle were brought to justice, things would be better.  It is as if her life were on hold.  Her pain and anger have linked her forever to her abuser, and she will not be free to move forward until he is punished.  So, as a therapist, I left the sessions with Linda not knowing whether to be more upset at her family for not validating and supporting her, the uncle for not repenting, or at her for giving him so much power to keep her stuck.

            Some of you can probably relate to Linda’s situation, but I suspect all of you have some experience with feeling hurt and unfairly treated.  If I could, I would facilitate acknowledgment by your family and arrange for an apology and repentance on the part of your offender.  Let me give you an example of the kind of intervention I would wish for you.  Borrowing from the work of Cloé Madanes (1992), let me share a 16-step model for facilitating repentance and restoring love in families which include both the victim and the offender.  In order to place this intervention in context, I should mention that it was developed for treating adolescent males who had sexually abused a younger sister.  Ninety-eight families participated in Madanes’ study, and at the beginning of the treatment, all of the offenders had been removed from their homes and were in some sort of lock-up facility.  At some point during the treatment the offenders were returned to their homes.  Two years later only two of the offenders had reoffended.

This model was somewhat revolutionary in that the treatment for both the victim and the offender took place together within the context of the family.  Madanes recognized that abuse affects the whole family.  She saw the need for the family to validate the pain of the victim, and she conceptualized repentance and forgiveness as inexorably linked.  I find this family intervention intriguing, and, if I could, I would involve your family in this multistep process:

Step 1.  Have each member of the family give an account of the offense. What was seen?  What was heard?  Who did what to whom?  Focus on factual, detailed accounts, and give everyone an opportunity to talk. 

Step 2.  Ask the offender to explain why it was wrong.  How did it injure the victim?  How is the victim different because of the offense?  Be specific.

Step 3.  Add another reason why it was wrong—spiritual pain, or pain of the heart.  Madanes is not a particularly religious person, and she trains psychotherapists who are not religious. Yet she insists that they use the word “spiritual.”  She tells them not to worry—their clients will understand.

Step 4.  Talk about the spiritual pain of the offender.  How was the offender hurt because of the offense?  How is he different?  How might he be suffering?  How might he be hiding his pain?

Step 5.  Talk about the spiritual pain of other members of the family.  Who else was hurt because of the offense? 

Step 6.  Talk about the pain of the mother and father.  Why would parents feel the pain suffered by their children?  Why might this offense be particularly painful?

Step 7.  Ask for a kneeling apology from the offender.  The apology must be sincere, detailed, and specific.  If the offender refuses to apologize, ask other family members to respond, or terminate the meeting and reschedule.

Step 8.  Ask for an apology from each member of the family—an apology for not protecting the victim or for not noticing the pain of the victim.

Step 9.  The family determines what the consequences will be if the abuse happens again.  The consequences should be feasible and severe enough to provide a deterrent.

Step 10.  The family designates a special protector for the victim—someone other than the mother who has power and authority.  Talk about the ways in which the victim needs protection.

Step 11.  The family decides on a method of reparation.  Reparation should be appropriate (e.g., the offender paying for therapy or contributing to a college fund).  It should not be confused with payment for sexual favors.

Step 12.  Talk about healthy sex.  The offender needs to understand what is right about sex.  This might be a separate session without the entire family present.

Step 13.  Talk about normal family life.  What was life like before and after the family crisis?  This might be a time to plan a family activity such as a picnic or a vacation.

Step 14.  Begin the process of restoring love for the offender—expressions of forgiveness and affection.

Step 15.  Find a place in the family for the offender again.  Talk about the role of the offender in the family, including the specific family needs that can be addressed by the offender.

Step 16.  Help offender forgive himself.  Talk about a guilt-free future—how the offender will be different, what the offender might want to do with his life.  Design a strategy for dealing with guilt (e.g., when temptations or guilty thoughts arise, do a good deed; then self-esteem replaces guilt.)

Now, having shared these 16 steps, I should insert a caveat.  I feel like those daredevils on TV who say “don’t try this at home.”  This kind of intervention is not a simple process.  It takes time and requires the facilitation of a skilled therapist.  But, when used appropriately, it can be a significant healing and growing experience for the entire family.

For some of you, this 16-step model will resonate powerfully, and you may be thinking “If only someone had intervened with my family, how different my life would be today.  It seems unfair that some families get that kind of help, and I got nothing.” Others of you may not resonate with this model because your situation was quite different—the perpetrator wasn’t a family member or it wasn’t sexual abuse, it was another kind of abuse.  So let’s change the scenario. 

Instead of a complex family intervention, I would, if I could, arrange a meeting with you, the victim, and your offender.  After working with the offender to help him recognize the injury and feel sorrow for the pain and injustice, I would arrange for a kneeling apology.  Just imagine that the person who caused you such pain is kneeling on the floor in front of you acknowledging that pain, apologizing for every abusive act.

I tried to help my client Linda with this guided imagery.  I asked her one day to imagine that the abusive uncle was kneeling at her feet begging her forgiveness.  I asked her what she would do if that happened, and she responded, “I would kick him in the teeth.”  I wasn’t prepared for that answer, but I kept going with my imaginary scenario.  I said, “He knows he deserves to be kicked in the teeth, but he doesn’t move.  He stays there letting you kick him, continuing to apologize for every offense.  You can kick him as long as you like, but he doesn’t move.  He just continues to apologize and to listen to your angry responses.  What will you do eventually?” 

It took some time for Linda to imagine this scenario, but when she finally was able to conceptualize the possibility of true repentance, she realized the next step was forgiveness; and then she was a little baffled.  She wasn’t sure what she would do with her life, because it had been on hold for so long while she waited for justice.  This was a lot of responsibility to shoulder.  She had been sheltered for years with a built-in excuse, and now the excuse was gone.  But, after a very long pause, she finally said, “I think I would lose weight and go back to school.”  After that, therapy was a process of helping her figure out that she didn’t have to wait for an apology in order to lose weight and go back to school.  She could take responsibility for her life now. 

Forgiveness is linked to repentance; and, because repentance did not happen in Linda’s case, she had been unable to forgive.  Forgiveness is a difficult concept to embrace for those who also embrace the principles of justice and responsibility.  How can someone who has been hurt be expected to just forget the injustice and pain and go on as if it never happened?

Some of us struggle with forgiveness because we fear the process will leave us weaker and even more vulnerable.  As a result, we may protect ourselves by becoming hardened and bitter.  No amount of justice is enough, and the concept of forgiving seems laughable.  Others feel bound to forgiveness as a correct principle, but still don’t know how to forgive (Bishop & Grunte, 1993).  As a result, these victims may be meek, passive, and confused about the injury as well as the forgiveness.  In both cases, there is a clear lack of understanding of what forgiveness really is.  First, let me tell you what forgiveness is not.  Bishop and Grunte (1993) identified six common myths:

Myth #1.  “I can’t forgive because I can’t forget.”  In spite of the common adage, forgiveness is not about forgetting—it is about remembering in a more meaningful way.

Myth #2.  “Some people don’t deserve to be forgiven.”   In spite of what we may think we learned in Sunday School, forgiveness is something we do for ourselves—not for someone else.  Whether the abuser is deserving is irrelevant.

Myth #3.  “If I forgive, that means I’ll have to trust the person.”  Not necessarily.  Forgiving doesn’t mean becoming naïve or stupid—it means giving up the investment in staying angry.

Myth #4.  “Forgiving someone tells them they can go out and do it again.”  Not true.  Forgiving frees the forgiver from replaying the hurtful scene over and over.  It can also raise the question:  “Assuming this person won’t change, what will I do in the future to deal with his or her behavior?”

Myth #5.  “I need my anger to stay safe.  If I forgive, I’ll be helpless and defenseless.”  Although anger is an appropriate part of the grieving process, it is not an essential prerequisite for defense.  Moreover, a person can forgive without forfeiting the right to use anger in self-defense.

Myth #6.  “I can’t forgive until I know the other person is really sorry and won’t do it again.”  Although it may seem unfair that the victim should forgive an unrepentant offender, it is even more unfair that the victim should remain in a state of hurt and anger waiting for the offender to repent.  Forgiveness should not be confused with excusing the offense.  Rather, it is the way in which the victim is released from the power of the offender.

So, what is forgiveness?  Forgiveness implies a change of heart.  When we say, “I forgive you,” we are saying “I have stopped being angry with you.”  Forgiveness also conveys a change in the victim’s expectations.  For example, he or she no longer seeks recriminations or tries to get even.  Genuine forgiveness is a process, not a product.  It takes time and is hard work.  It is a voluntary act which gives meaning to the wound, disengages the offended from the offender, and frees the injured person from the ills of bitterness and resentment (Hope, 1987).

Forgiving involves accepting responsibility for how one feels, acts, and responds.  For example, if I loaned a friend some money and the friend didn’t pay me back, I could follow that friend around forever, nagging and hounding.  I could try to make him feel guilty for every pleasure he enjoys or desires—since he does not deserve pleasure while he still owes me money.  I could dream about all the things I could buy if the loan were paid.  No matter how small the debt, everything I thought about acquiring—from a McDonald’s Happy Meal to a new car—could be linked to the hope of repayment, and I could always use the unpaid debt as an excuse for not better managing my own finances. 

At some point, however, I would have to decide whether to continue reminding the debtor that he owes me.  I would have to weigh the benefit of feeling free of the hassle and bad feelings against the benefit of having a vague hope of repayment and built-in excuse for my own problems.  I would not take responsibility to pay the debt—that belongs to the debtor and could never be mine.  Also, by forgiving the debt, I would not be sending the debtor a message that he somehow deserved the money.  Rather, I would be freeing myself of that entanglement and empowering myself to go on without the burden. 

            Forgiveness is the process through which the injured person gains peace, freedom, self-acceptance, and release from self-pity; through forgiveness wounds are healed.  It is a privilege to forgive, because forgiveness really is for the benefit of the victim!  It may be easier to forgive if the offender repents, but victims should not be dependent on the repentance of the offender in order to experience the freedom that comes with forgiveness. 

As a therapist, I didn’t want my clients to be stuck indefinitely because of an offender who could not or would not repent.  I worked at finding ways for these clients to accomplish the benefits of repentance for themselves so they wouldn’t be dependent on the repentance of that offender.  In pondering on this dilemma, I eventually conceptualized forgiveness, in this case, as a process of repenting on behalf of the offender. 

I need to explain what I mean by “on behalf of.”  “On behalf of” does not imply that, as a victim, I am taking the burden of repentance away from the offender.  The responsibility will forever remain with the offender.  “On behalf of” simply means that as a victim I can accomplish for myself what would be accomplished for me if the offender were to repent.  I don’t have to be jealous of those families who got that 16-step intervention or the victim whose offender really did apologize.  I can experience the benefits of repentance without a remorseful offender.

So, what would repentance by the victim on behalf of the offender look like?  Before we answer that question, let’s review the basic steps of repentance (Gospel Principles, 1992). 

            First, we must recognize our sins.  We admit to ourselves that we have done something wrong.  Second, we must feel sorrow for our sins.  Feeling sorrowful, we are humble and submissive before God, and we come to Him with a broken heart and contrite spirit.  Third, we must confess our sins.  We should confess all our sins to the Lord.  In addition, we must confess serious sins which might affect our standing in the Church to the proper priesthood authority.  Fourth, we must forsake our sins.  We stop committing the sin.  If we have stolen something, we will steal no more.  If we have lied, we will lie no more.  Fifth, we must make restitution.  This means that as much as possible we must make right any wrong that we have done—give back what was stolen, or make the truth known where a lie was told.

Now, let’s go back over those steps—this time from the perspective of the victim.  I will use the example of my client Linda.  Some of you will easily relate to Linda’s experience; some of you won’t.  However, I am sure that all of you have experienced injury and felt treated unfairly at one time or another.  As I go through the steps of repentance using Linda as an example, I invite you to think of your own personal situations and find a way to apply this process to your life as an injured party.

            Step 1:  Recognition of the sin.  The offender is not the only one who is responsible for recognizing the injury.  The victim must take responsibility for naming the offense and claiming the injury.  For example, in our therapy sessions Linda and I addressed questions such as “What were the moral rules that were broken, and how did the betraying event break those rules?”  “What is the meaning of the injury, and what are its consequences?  How am I more vulnerable?  How has my belief system changed?”  Claiming the injury is a process of exploring and owning.  “What specific losses have I sustained?”  Or, “What gifts have I received because of the injury—how am I stronger or different?” (Flanigan, 1992).

            Step 2:  Sorrow for the sin.  In our compassion, we are tempted to spare the victim from further sorrow.  It is appropriate for the offender to feel sorrow for sin, but hasn’t the victim experienced enough pain by being injured?  Yes and no.  Grieving is part of the healing process.  For many victims, sorrow has been averted or camouflaged by anger, and in giving up the anger, one has to be willing to feel the sadness which gave rise to that anger (Fitzgibbons, 1986).  Sorrow is a natural response to loss and will come naturally as the victim is able to name the offense and claim the injury—identifying and grieving all the losses. 

In working with Linda, I was impatient for her to rise above all the baggage in her life and get right to the healing that comes with forgiving.  Sorrow is uncomfortable for others to watch; sometimes it looks a lot like wallowing in misery.  But Linda was “wallowing” because she was stuck—she had not been allowed, or hadn’t allowed herself, to complete the grieving process because, until now, she had not been able to identify the specific losses.  In our therapy sessions we identified the loss of childhood freedom and expression, loss of the ability to trust men resulting in a loss of meaningful relationships later on, and loss of self-esteem—to name a few.

After we had successfully identified most of the losses, and Linda had completed the work associated with the various stages of the grieving process, I was pleased to discover that she was able to feel sorrow for the offender’s losses, too.  Ultimately, his losses would be the most tragic.

            Step 3:  Confession.  Unwillingness to confess on the part of the offender does not stop the victim from disclosing the offense.  The victim confesses on behalf of the offender as she or he breaks the silence and shares with someone—a confidante, therapist, legal authority, or bishop—the details of the offense.  By disclosing, Linda was removing herself from a world of confusion in which she had felt shame and reluctance for anyone else to know about the events of her abuse.  She was now ready to place the blame where it belonged.  In our naïve ways of conceptualizing forgiveness, we are sometimes led to believe that we shouldn’t blame, but blaming is prerequisite to forgiving.  If there is no blame, there is no need to forgive.  In order to forgive, Linda needed to recognize that something was wrong and someone was at fault.  Once that was clearly established, then the process of forgiving and healing could proceed.

            Step 4:  Forsaking the sin.  Victims cannot force offenders to forsake sin, but they can take responsibility for protecting themselves and others from further abuse.  Unfortunately, after being abused by one offender, victims become vulnerable to abuse by other offenders, and they may not realize that they have power to stop the abuse.  During this stage, Linda developed appropriate guidelines for determining a person’s trustworthiness, and she established common-sense rules of conduct for herself, such as not being out alone in certain parts of town late at night.  In her case, feeling safe also included a self-defense course.  As she felt increasingly safer, her inappropriate defensive mechanisms (such as her excessive weight) began to disappear.

            Step 5:  Making restitution.  Restitution is essential in restoring order and wholeness to the life of the injured person.   Another way to think of restitution is “balancing the scales” (Flanigan, 1992).  With the scales of injustice, balance is destroyed when one person takes choice away from another while at the same time increasing his own.  Because real forgiveness comes from a position of strength not weakness, a person who is able to forgive must finally arrive at a place of strength.  Balance is restored to uneven scales by taking away something from the heavier side or adding something to the lighter side.  Likewise, in repentance, balance is restored by punishing the offender or loading resources to the depleted reserves of the victim.  A victim’s desire to punish is natural but frequently plays out in ways that become destructive.  For example, Linda tried to punish her offender unwittingly by withholding affection from all men.  Appropriate punishment may not be within the power of the injured person.  Perhaps more important than meting out punishment is the power the victim has to balance the scales by loading resources to depleted reserves.  In addition to therapy, Linda empowered herself by joining a support group, taking evening courses at the local community college, and rejuvenating her social life by starting a new hobby.  Later, she solidified her transition from “victim” to “survivor” by providing support to others who had suffered similar losses.

Through the tasks of repentance, the victim can experience real forgiveness and healing regardless of the offender’s willingness or ability to repent.  But we must remember that complete repentance and forgiveness, in the eternal sense, are linked to Christ’s Atonement for all the sins of the world.  When we, as victims, are finally able to view our injury through a lens filtered by our understanding of a literal Atonement, the perception of our own victimization is changed.  Forgiveness isn’t so difficult when we have a perspective of the offender having been reformed, cleansed, and healed through the atoning sacrifice of Christ.  That kind of perception may be a tall order for a person who has suffered horrendous personal injury.  In fact, one might say it is nothing short of a miracle, but that is appropriate because God’s forgiveness is also a miracle.  

Part of my role as a therapist is to help victims envision that miracle.  Borrowing from the work of Insoo Kim Berg (1994), this is the way I might do it:  Pretend that while you are asleep tonight a miracle happens.  Your perspective is miraculously changed so that you recognize the power of the Atonement and you see your offender as a son or daughter of God.  So you miraculously forgive the offense, and all of the baggage you have been carrying because of the hurt simply disappears.  Because you are sleeping, you don’t know that a miracle has happened or that the baggage has disappeared.  What do you suppose you will notice tomorrow morning that will tell you the baggage is gone?  What will other people notice that is different about you?  Whatever you saw yourself doing as you imagined yourself free and healed is an important personal objective.  In your mind’s eye, did you see yourself smiling, eating breakfast, getting to work on time, asking for help?  If so, those are your tasks for today.  You need a vision of yourself as a strong person who has successfully completed the forgiving and healing process, and that vision will provide the clues about how to get there.  But you have to want the blessings of forgiving more than you want the excuses of victimization.

This quest for freedom has been cleverly described by Portia Nelson.

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters

                           I

I walk down the street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I fall in.

I am lost—I am helpless

It isn’t my fault

It takes forever to find a way out.

                           II

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I pretend I don’t see it.

I fall in again.

I can’t believe I am in the same place

But, it isn’t my fault.

It still takes a long time to get out.

                           III

I walk down the same street

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I see it is there.

I still fall in—it’s a habit.

My eyes are open.

I know where I am.

It is my fault.

I get out immediately.

                           IV

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I walk around it.

                           V

I walk down another street.

When one has been deeply wounded, there is no way to genuinely forgive without experiencing a great deal of personal growth.  After interviewing many victims of intimate wounds, Beverly Flanigan (1992) learned that those who were successful at forgiving became stronger and better able to take care of themselves.  They made different choices about the people they let into their lives, but they didn’t stop being vulnerable.  Instead, they accepted pain as a part of life, and they developed a new philosophy about people.  I would like to share some of their comments:

“I know that I cannot prevent harm from coming my way.  It is the rare person who escapes being injured by a person she loves.  I will remove myself from harm’s way when I can; but in the future I will know that injuries happen to everyone.  Some of them I will be able to control.  Some I will not.  Knowing this, I am free.  Forgiving will never again be so difficult.” (p. 229)

“It is essential to not excuse.  You can forgive, but you must not excuse.  Excusing means you believe there is some logical reason a person behaves the way he behaves.  In cases like incest or beating, there is no logical reason.  So excusing is dangerous.  If we have free will, we are responsible for ourselves.  Granted, things may affect our judgment, but it IS our judgment.” (p. 170)

 “. . . You know, I’ve lost everything.  It’s all been ripped off.  I understand it, though; nothing is worth the hating.” (p. 168)

I want to conclude with my own testimony regarding the personal growth and spiritual cleansing that can come through forgiveness.  There was a time in my life when I was so badly injured that I didn’t see any possibility for real recovery.  My heart was broken.  But, in my state of humiliation—or humility, depending on your point of view—being completely stripped of pride became freeing; it allowed me to make spiritual progress.  My broken heart became a “broken heart and a contrite spirit”—not a crushed heart, but a heart broken open to receive help, guidance, and wisdom.  I was open to learn, to grow, and to change; pride was no longer a barrier.  During that time when my heart was so tender, I could not sit through a sacrament meeting without weeping.  People would see my tears and feel sorry for me, but those tears were more than tears of grief.  I was overwhelmed with many feelings—including feelings of gratitude, joy, and love.  The Lord was aware of my plight, and His grace was at work in my heart.  As my own spirit was cleansed, my need for anger disappeared, and it was not difficult to forgive. 

When I was skimming along the surface of the straight and narrow path in my youth, I had lofty goals, and I knew success; but I didn’t really know Christ until I was confronted with injury and loss.  I would like to share a scripture, one which has come to have great meaning for me.  It is found in Romans 8:28.  “. . . all things work together for good to them that love God.”  My heartbreaking losses, instead of undermining my testimony, have deepened it, and I believe I have become a better disciple. 

There is no way to get through life unscathed.  For each of us, the only path to the celestial kingdom—whether we are the offender or the victim—is a humble recognition of our dependence on the atoning sacrifice of our Savior Jesus Christ.  That is my testimony.  And it is my hope that all things, even serious injuries, will work together for your good.


References

Berg, I. K.  (1994).  Family based services:  A solution-focused approach.  New York:  International Universities Press.

Bishop, J., & Grunte, M.  (1993).  How to forgive when you don=t know how.  Barrytown, NY: Station hill Press.

Flanigan, B.  (1992).  Forgiving the unforgivable: Overcoming the bitter legacy of intimate wounds.  New York, NY: MacMillan Press.

Hope, D.  (1987).  The healing paradox of forgiveness.  Psychotherapy, 24, 240-244.

Kübler-Ross, E.  (1969).  On death and dying:  What the dying have to teach doctors, nurses, clergy, and their own families.  New York:  Macmillan Publishing Company.

Madanes, C.  (1992).  Stories of psychotherapy.  In J. K. Zeig (Ed.), The evolution of psychotherapy:  The second conference (pp. 39-54).  New York:  Brunney/Mazel.

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  (1992).  Gospel principles.  Salt Lake City, UT: Author.