To See A Miracle

Randy's Story- Learning To Forgive

I know by now my face is bright red. I'm sure my growling can be heard by the bystanders. Who cares, though? The traffic light finally changed from "stop" to "walk". If the situation was different, I would have cheered.

As I stepped off the sidewalk and on to the street, I continued my rant. Why does that man do this to us? Every single time! And what's worse is that she keeps forgiving him.

Why? This is the ninth time it's happened. Why they even go through with the divorce any more is beyond me. He knows that once he comes crying back to Mom she'll just sob a little before accepting him again.

Well I'm so done with this. That man is no longer my father. She may keep letting him in, but I won't.

I paused my mental raging for a minute as I walked around a bench.

Wednesday night church seemed like my only option right now. It gave me an escape from my blood-related-only father.

As I continue on to the church, I kicked a pebble and watched it roll away. I felt like that dumb rock- unable to do anything about the way I was kicked and bruised over and over again.

My thoughts were cut short as the church came into view. I dodged a few parked cars and was finally in.

Running a hand through my hair, I realized I probably should have taken a shower, or at least brushed my hair, before I stormed over here. Guess it's too late for that now.

I turned to the left and began climbing the small staircase leading to the youth room. When I reached the top I felt a hand on my arm.

Turning my head, I saw Mr. Bright, our youth leader. "Hello there, Randy. I'm glad to see you here again." He said with a smile.

I mumbled something like "Yeah." so he continued.

"How are things at home?" He asked politely.

"You don't wanna know." I mumbled almost harshly. I let my pain and anger flash through my eyes before quickly composing myself.

Mr. Bright's eyes were full of compassion as I quickly turned and walked into the class room. There I sat down to lose myself in thought.

After a few seconds, the buzzing died down letting me know Mr. Bright was beginning his lesson. I went through the motions as everyone stood singing and clapping with smiles on their faces. They lost me at clapping.

Through the whole process I could feel Mr. Bright's eyes on me. I refused to look at him hoping he would lose interest. About three years ago, Mr. Bright consoled me. As young and naive as I was, I told him all about everything happening. I was every counselor's dream. Then I got smart and completely cut him off.

I knew he didn't really care. He couldn't. Why would he? Today I kept trying to tune him out, but his words were pressing themselves into my mind.

"-seven times seventy. Four hundred and ninety times is how many times Jesus told us we have to forgive someone. In the old days, that was a crazy big number. Back then, no one would probably ever commit four hundred sins all against one person. And even today it's not that probable that you would ever have to forgive one person that often. Although, for some,"

Even though I didn't want to, I looked up at Mr. Bright. He was staring directly at me as he continued, "they have to forgive a person a million times. And even that isn't enough."

He wants me to forgive him? A thousand emotions flooded through me at one. Anger was first, pain followed closely behind. Emotions flashed behind my eyes almost too quickly for me to register them.

Abruptly I stood up.  Heads turned to look at me.  Heads that were not filled with understanding.  All they had on their faces was questions.  "Why is he getting up?  That's not what we're doing right now." 

I stepped out of the end of my row.  Then I walked to the door hoping to portray calmness so no more questions were asked. 

Could I forgive him?  The man who destroyed me?  He ruined my life.  He hurt my mother.  Does he even deserve forgiveness? 

While thoughts like these flickered through my brain, my feet carried me away.  My thoughts were sliced apart only when I heard a bird chirping.  I looked around to see I was out behind the church. 

Soft quietness enveloped me as I looked around.  No questioning eyes or accusing fingers were present.  All that was out here was grass, flowers, birds, and a gazebo. 

I walked a few steps to the sheltered area and slouched in one of the soft chairs.  Greens, reds, blues, and purples clouded my vision.  I wasn't paying attention to what I saw, only to what I was thinking. 

I was so caught up in my own head that I didn't even hear the footsteps coming towards me.  I only saw Mr. Bright when he sat down next to me.  We didn't say anything for a long time.  If I would have been paying attention, I would have seen cars pulling away and the churches lights being switched off. 

Finally I quietly said, "How can I forgive him?"

Mr. Bright calmly replied, "With God's help."

I quickly spat out my next thought, "But does he even deserve my forgiveness?"

Mr. Bright pursed his lips together in thought before replying. "Randy, I need you to bear with me while you do this.  Picture ever horrible terrible, nasty thing you've ever done."

Pictures flew through my head as I remembered the times I had yelled at my mother, when I had lashed out at her, the world, everyone.  When I was so angry I wanted to murder my father.  When I wanted to commit suicide.  Those days when I stole right from people's pockets.  All those years I beat up anyone in my path.  Those thousands of times I cheated on tests I hadn't, couldn't, study for.  Those days when I blamed everything on God. 

"Ok." I said.

"Now picture this." Mr. Bright continued. "Every single tiny little sin you ever committed was one more time the soldiers whipped Jesus's bare back.  All of your sins were what forced Him through massive amounts of torture.  Then, when He could physically take no more, they hung Him on a cross resulting in His death.  He did all of that for you.  I would have to say He had every right to not forgive you and all the people who ultimately killed Him.  But that was not what He did.  As He let death overcome Him, He yelled 'Father, forgive them.  For they know not what they do.' Jesus set the ultimate example for us.  He taught us to always forgive, no matter how badly you've been treated." Mr. Bright stopped talking and looked at me waiting. 

I sighed and buried my head in my arms as I leaned on the table.  I sat there processing everything I had just been told.  I knew what I was going to do even though I still fought against it. 

After a few quiet minutes I gave up.  Raising my head I said, "I'll do it.  I forgive him."

Mr. Brights face lit up as he smiled a wide toothy grin.  He looked at me for a second before pulling my in for a hug. 

"My boy" He said, "I think we just witnessed a miracle."

Letting out a small chuckle I replied, "Amazing isn't it?  To see a miracle."

****************************

Years later, Randy is still forgiving.  His father left seven more times before eventually dying of a heart attack.  Now Randy is a youth minister.  He can teach how to forgive because he understands forgiveness.