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How could I be feeling this way after so many years had passed? I should have forgiven him by now, after all, I was just a child when he did his despicable acts on me. I had had lots of time to work through things and come to a place of forgiveness. Now I was pregnant with my first child and I vowed if it were a girl, he would never be alone with her, never. The feelings welling up in me were strong and filled with venom. There was a fierce protectiveness in me, which would protect my child at any cost.
I had a girl. The feelings of wanting to protect her intensified.
I laid it down time after time, forgave, went on. Something else would crop up to remind me, making me angry all over again. I was angry with the man who had treated me so, and angry with myself for not being able to fully forgive. He stole my innocence, shattered my world, and left my soul scarred for a long time. I often wondered how a one-time act could affect me so radically, change my world so completely, and wound me for life.
When we would be together at family gatherings the tension between us was palpable. I even asked him forgiveness once, when I was a teen, for my attitude toward him and he asked why... I wouldn’t say, I just shrugged. Here I was laying the blame of his act on my young shoulders, a burden I shouldn’t have had to carry.
I was eight years old when this happened to me, 35 when I was finally able to let go, forgive, move on. I had a dream one night that he died and things still weren’t settled between us. Yes, someone I knew, loved, and trusted, did this act to me. After this dream I knew it was time to act; to let go of the anger and confront he who had poisoned my world - or was it I, who was poisoning it with my heart of unforgiveness? Whatever the case, I would act now, to be free of this pain forever. I wrote him a letter asking why he had done this to me, what caused him to treat me in such a contemptible manner. I also expressed forgiveness toward him, although he had never once asked for it.
The letter delivered, I was left wondering, pondering, and second-guessing myself for doing such a thing. Maybe I should have just left it alone. But no, I felt so strongly that God wanted this. He wanted to heal me, mend me, restore me, and rid me of anger and dissolve the pain that continued to wrap itself around my heart. He wanted to set me free. Several months passed and then we saw each other for Christmas at a relative’s house. We talked and wept, hugged, forgave. The moment was powerful and only a few knew what we were talking about, and why we were so emotional with each other. Right there in a room full of people, God worked a miracle and wiped anger forever away from my heart. He washed us both clean that day.
He had carried the pain of what he had done with him for years, never talking to anyone about it. He was alone with his anguish, guilt, and pain. God had me open the door for us to talk about it, and him to talk about it with others, so that he could be free. Writing that letter was the hardest and yet easiest thing I have ever done; God gave me the strength to obey. I learned by one single act, which snowballed into another act, and set two people free that day from anger and remorse, that God’s grace is, indeed, sufficient for me, and His truth really does set me free. (i)
(i) John 8:32, 2 Corinthians 12:9
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