Forgiveness in Recovery
November 13, 2022
Dear God, good morning. Today’s reading is about “Forgiveness,” Dear Lord, It’s taken me many decades to forgive my biological parents for the physical, psychological, and sexual abuse at our house. We were not allowed to go to church. And my birth parents were afraid of people knowing their business in our home.
Back in the nineteen seventies, slapping, hitting, and beating your child as a form of disciplined was the norm, or so I thought. It took me a long time to see your ways, Jesus, and I forgave my father first.
My father died on June 4 in two-thousand and eleven. Throughout the years, I knew that hating my father worked. The hate surrounding my heart was like a glacier. I felt hurt, disappointed, and angry for many decades at my father for sexually abusing me as a child. I forgave him. I told him I was sorry for hating him for so many years. Then my father started crying. Then Tina and I started crying too. I squeezed my father’s hands and kissed him on top of his head.
I felt compassion in my heart for my father. The nurses told me that my father needed hospice because he wanted to go home and was dying, according to the doctor and hospice. That night my father was surrounded by love, and I got to feed him his last dinner, which was tomato soup.
Willy, my brother, was there. Tina and her mother were at my father’s house that night too. Willy and I did not know when my father would pass away. We called Sunflower, who was in Israel at the time. We placed the phone near my father’s head so he could hear Sunflower talking and crying. My father was incoherent since he returned home, which is what he wanted, and he did not wish not to die in the hospital.
We called Deinse and were trying to get money for Denise to come up from Baltimore. We tried to wire money to Denise, but Tina got a call from my brother that my father had passed away while we were at Walmart. Tina and I rushed to my father’s house, and we walked into my father’s bedroom. We both screamed together, tears pouring down my cheeks like a waterfall. My brother and Tina were crying too.
I was worried that my father was going to hell because of his sins. I was alone with my father after he died, and I begged you, Jesus, to take him to heaven. We were all distraught at the house.
The next day I drove home to Peabody, Massachusetts. My car had a sunroof, and As I was driving, I saw white birds. I stopped my car and watched these birds flying around me. I did not live anywhere near the ocean. These birds remind me of doves. And maybe that was your way of telling me my father went to the heavenly world with you, Jesus.
My mother was an atheist. She closed her back on you, Jesus. She told me she did not believe in you. I tried to love her, but I could not. I did not cry at her wake. I forgave my mother when I wrote to you, sweet Jesus, one morning. My mother was dead for three years, and as I was writing to you, I stopped writing and prayed to you, Jesus, and at that moment, I forgave my mother. I pray that she goes to heaven too.
Forgiving my parents was so hard to do. Not having hate surround my heart anymore is a relief. Forgiving my parents was necessary. Emotionally, I feel free. Thank you, Jesus. love you