The Letter

I wrote a blog earlier this year about this same subject. But, I felt it needed to be done again. My mom goes to a bible study on Thursday mornings. They are doing a Beth Moore study. The chapter they are starting next week is on Binding up the brokenhearted. There is one lady in the group that has the same story as me. Stepparent molesting her children. She has not been able to forgive herself all these years later. I can relate to that. I wrote my story last night. I know other women are hurting, blaming and not forgiving themselves either. Writing this blog maybe I can reach at least one hurting soul.

                                                           The Letter

I am her mother. I am suppose to protect her from things like that. I invite him into our lives, our home. He becomes part of our family. You should be able to trust family, right?
I suspected. I asked questions. Lies and Denial. Six years of lies and denial.
So easily I believed those lies. Why?
Right in my own home. Why didn't I pay more attention?
Thank God she doesn't hate me. She doesn't blame me. I blame me.
God forgives. My daughter and I through God were able to forgive him. Or at least put him behind us.
The pain is still there. I refuse to forgive myself. The rage within. I don't deserve forgiveness. I failed her.
Seventeen years later. Bible Study class. The topic "Forgiveness". God forgives. Am I better then God? He forgives, yet I refuse. If God can forgive, then I must forgive. I need to forgive that mother that failed her child. I must write her a letter.
As I sit here with pen in hand, I pray. Pray for God to give me words to say to this woman.
As I am writing, I feel the rage I have for her. My pen filled those pages with all my rage.
" I hate you. You don't deserve forgiveness. Do you know what your little girl went through? God gave her to you to protect. You failed".
I put down my pen. With my head bowed, I again seek God's guidance.
I put pen to paper once more. The ink from my pen flowed forming the words, " I forgive you".
I read the letter out loud so I could hear those words.
Then I crumbled the letter up, laid on my bed, curled up and cried.
Three years later I am restored. All is forgiven.
There comes a time when we must forgive. Even forgiving ourselves so our soul can be at peace.
It is well with my soul.