I knew I needed to forgive. Even as a non-Christian, I knew it would not be healthy to hold onto all the anger I felt after my dad’s murder. For many years, I tried to forgive. I tried to move on, but without God in my life, I ended up burying my anger instead. Like a seed in fertile ground, my anger was effectively planted, yielding the corrosive fruit of bitterness that resided deep within my heart. You see, I had mistakenly subscribed to the “forgive and forget” mentality this world puts forth, but this way of thinking does not lead us toward true forgiveness or healing. Following the “forgive and forget” model only represses emotions––it does not heal them. I did not know real forgiveness––what it looked like, what it was, or how to do it––until Jesus showed me nine years after the murder, as He led me on…
Archive for the ‘Healing’ Category
To the brokenhearted – I know you’re lonely. I know that your heart has shattered into what feels like a thousand pieces. And I too know that you’re probably wondering if the pain you feel right now will ever go away. I know this because I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to have someone ripped from your life, one terrible moment. I know how hard it is to believe they’re gone. I remember wondering if I was ever going to feel normal again––wondering how long it would take to heal. But now that I’m on the other side and many years have passed between then and now, I’d like to whisper some truth to your broken heart this Christmas, if you’ll let me. I know you may not see Him right now, but God is with you. I didn’t see Him at the time, but looking back, I now know that God was…
“Did you write our mommy notes yet?” I hear my girls ask most mornings before school. “Yep! It’s in your lunch box,” I say, as we head out the door to start our day. These little, seemingly insignificant “mommy notes”––as my girls dubbed them––mean the world to my two daughters. They don’t just read them. They cherish them. They keep them. In fact, there are times that I see them pull out an enormous stack of mommy notes so they can read them all over again. Ella even knows which one is the very first mommy note I gave her on her first day of first grade, over two years ago (we homeschooled for kindergarten). And let me tell you, on the rare occasion that I don’t have time to write that sacred little note, you better believe that I hear about it. It almost seems they’re not quite filled with my love…