“Forgiveness is the remission of sins. For it is by this that what has been lost, and was found, is saved from being lost again.”
— Saint Augustine
An hour of silence, words not spoken, but they were felt
Out of no where you placed your hand in mine and squeezed it tight
The same hand that in a fit of rage threw a chair at me and attempted suicide while I sat a few feet away from you
The same hands that promised to keep me safe, instead made me cower in fear
I didn’t think about that day or any other day where heightened emotions were the cause of two years of abuse
Emotional, mental, physical, I got it all from you
All those times I cried hoping for change that never came
Wishing for the better man I knew you had the potential to be, the man who two years prior wanted to spend the rest of his life with me
I didn’t think about the abuse in that moment, the moment when you squeezed my hand to say things you couldn’t with words
Instead I looked at your actions in that moment and it brought me back to the moment of why I gave you chance at all
I felt your heart
As we entered the airport, the sun high in the sky, I tried not to fall apart
We said our goodbyes and I watched you walk away, five years of my life fading into a memory
I waited for you to turn around to get one last look at the life you were leaving behind
You didn’t look back, so why do I?
Forgiveness. Love. Grace.
2 Corinthians 12:9
My grace is enough; it’s all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness. Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ’s strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become.