A Poet’s Testimony (Part 1)
One evening while
studying for a test at college, I found myself reading the same three to four
chapters of an electronics book over and over; nothing was soaking in. I no
sooner read it than I forgot it. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong, had
years of substance abuse caused me to be incapable of learning or was I just
too stupid to learn? As I mulled over all these excuses in my mind, the answer
suddenly became clear; my mind was so absolutely full and preoccupied with
something else that nothing new was capable of getting in. I had been hurt by
someone and I hated them for it. My heart had been broken and sorrow had turned
to loathing. It had so completely taken me over and I didn’t even see it
coming. It was a deep, deep hatred; a kind of dark and shameful disdain. It was
the kind of hatred that seeks revenge and takes comfort in other’s pain and
misfortune. It was the first time I recognized it and I was ashamed. I saw that
I had chosen to do the ungodly thing and that I had been willfully feeding my
anger for nearly two years.
I prayed as I never
prayed before that night; My God, my God, I am so ashamed! I know now that I continue
to willfully offend thee, but I can no longer control these feelings that now
control me. I cannot do this without you
my God. Please cleanse me and take this hatred from me that I may live again. I
fell asleep that night weeping with the Bible in my hand. When I awoke, I was a
new man; my hatred had been replaced with love, understanding, and forgiveness.
My thoughts were once again my own.
Twenty-five years later, after I had
been saved and I had chosen to follow Christ, I found the strength to contact
the one who had so devastatingly nearly brought me to my end. I immediately
told her that I harbored no ill will towards her. We corresponded by e-mail for
a bit and one day she apologized for what had happened. I told her that I never
again wanted to hear her apologize for something that had happened so long ago.
Never bring it up again; those demons were put to death twenty-five years ago. She
later told me that she cried for three days and I knew that it had been wrong for
me to withhold my forgiveness from her. It was something that she needed to
hear. The circle of forgiveness was then complete and all wounds were on the
mend or healed.
To be continued...
