Rosaria and Chantal have experienced more heartache than many of our families have for generations. Both are Rwandans, and both experienced the death of their immediate families at the hands of fellow Rwandans in 1994. Now, in Laura Waters Hinson's documentary that features narration by Mia Farrow, the two women find themselves faced with a similar dilemma to that facing thousands of their fellow Rwandans. How will you grow in the face of an impossible task and an equally painful situation?

When the government freed more than 50,000 people who had participated in the Rwandan genocide, justice (or punishment for wrongdoing) was nearly impossible. Of course, nothing the government (or anyone else) did would bring those people back, but could some sort of restoration, or some sort of judgment, bring order and consequences to the world that had seen so much death and destruction? With the absence of a church front to present itself against the forces of evil and aggression in Rwanda, and without external help from other governments, the less-politically inclined Tutsis and moderate Hutu people were massacred. What could possibly "rectify" this situation?

The answer that the people of Rwanda came to was simple, and complex, all at once. Those who had been hurt needed to forgive those who had killed their families, raped their community, and brutalized those who remained alive. Those who remained, both the victims and their oppressors, needed to focus on the future and build something together, a new Rwanda, a new hope. And Waters, then an American University film student and an Anglican, set out on a fund-raised trip to Africa to document how, and if, peace could be found in the midst of carnage, as forgiveness might win.

What you see, in a little under an hour, is hard to watch... and not primarily for the language barrier, but for the anger, the hurt, and the violence that has rocked this far corner of the world. And what I was left with was a nearly impossible question for myself, as asked by the movie: "Can I forgive?" If these women (and thousands of other people like them) can forgive people who've beaten, raped, and killed their families, then why do I struggle with the much more simple moments during the week? Why can't I forgive the person who cuts me off, the person who unfairly passes me over for promotion or fires me, or the person who tears me apart over a theological discussion at church?

The answer is that I should! If the kingdom of God is really meant for Earth, if I believe that the power of Christ is a transforming power, re-shaping my life, then I must forgive. I have an obligation to move forward in hope and love, and peace is my mandate as a Christian. If I want to follow Christ, if I simply want to follow the example of some thousands of Rwandans, I have to forgive.

Excuse me, but I have a lot of work to do. I better go get started.