Forgiveness. It’s such a simple word, yet such a hard thing to do. For years I’ve been holding on to a grudge against my biological mother. I felt like she didn’t fight for me, she didn’t step up as a parent when I needed her the most. I tell people I have forgiven her, but if I am honest with myself, I haven’t fully. Not yet. I’ve told myself a million times I should – I’ve wanted to. It just hasn’t quite happened. It’s easier to forgive a friend who has made questionable choices during your friendship, it just seems to cut a little deeper when it’s family.
I know that holding on to the past is only pushing me away from God, and that is the last thing I want. After a thousand Sunday school lessons and songs on forgiveness, I decided I wanted to be free of the hate in my life. So today, I choose forgiveness. I am going to reach out to my mother and let her know that I forgive her and that I want to mend what was broken. Not because I want to secure my faith, but to try to save hers.
She feels abandoned, much like I did. Even though we will never get back those years we spent hating each other, there is still time to heal wounds and to mend a few fences.