The work of giving and receiving forgiveness is seldom done thoroughly as we often give and receive forgiveness too quickly, resulting in buried and unnamed hurts and losses, shallow grieving, and unhealthy compensating behaviors.
To live a purposeful and grace-filled life, the wounds of the past must be healed so that we can mature and be more willing to respond to God than react to our past.
On a rainy and cold autumn afternoon in the middle of the pandemic I decided to visit my childhood home which I left in the mid 80’s. This time was the first time I felt the need to visit. I felt it was a calling.
As I prepared myself to travel down memory lane, life was difficult, my mother had just passed, and the world was in lock down and I was in the middle of a spiritual process called “Listen to my life”.
I had no idea what was going to happen when I decided to visit my childhood home on Chicory Dr. I had no intention other than I wanted to be there.
As we got closer to the house it rained harder and harder to the point of wanting to go back but my desire to want to be there was stronger.
When I got to the neighborhood I was perplexed. The first thing I pointed out to my husband and my son was that the streets we were driving on were totally different from the streets I walked and bike through, but the houses and especially the houses of those little people who made my life impossible, were identical. It was a strange feeling.
A whole movie passed before my eyes very slowly, being able to see every detail minutely.
In the distance I saw the school bus stop right in front of my house, I saw myself get off the bus, cross the street and enter the house. It was a total joy every time I came home.
Suddenly, I was no longer in the car but through my imagination I was outside of it. I was standing in front of the mailbox looking at it when God took me by the hand. Oh, I started crying.
In my mind’s eye God told me to look at the numbers on it and he said to me: “The numbers are still on the mailbox; the mailbox is still the same and it’s in the same place. The roots are underground.
The numbers may be faded but the reality is that Its essence has not changed. It’s the same house, the same address, the same mailbox.What really matters is what was in that house, the love of a mother, the protection of the siblings, nothing that happened outside or around it really mattered or matters now. That’s what you must hold on to from those childhood years.
The only thing for me to remember is my mother in her 30s with four children doing her best and giving us everything she could and much more.
My mom gave me a new dream, a new country, a new language, an opportunity, hope and an experience that would last a lifetime.
As we sat in the car rain falling hard, I felt my heavenly mother’s presence. She led me here to review those years. She wanted to teach me. She wanted me to look at the memories from a different perspective.
My mother pointed out how different trails and stories open when remember to invite God in. I get to tell my story again but this time from love and forgiveness.
There at that very moment I was able to realize why I was not advancing in my inner healing work. I was able to realize that what was needed was to forgive. I then forgave everyone who made those childhood years so difficult and made peace with my past. The timing was perfect. It was time for forgiveness and rejoicing.
God has been with me every step of the way. The presence of him and his angels throughout my life is clear. I can feel it, I can see it, I can hear it, I know it.
God was there with me, holding my hand and showing me what really matters. I would not have had that experience of inner peace if I had not been ready to receive. Under the rain I was able to cleanse, release the pain of my inner child and heal.
This kind of work is not for the faint of hearts, I would say. Courage is needed. Do not forget that it is God who waits to show you some things along your way and the idea is to recognize and respond to God in your story.
When something significant happens in our lives, and especially as children, we tell ourselves stories about who we are and how our world works. As time goes by, you decide what to take with you and what to leave behind.
what do you take with you?