How to Love the Unforgiven

I remember the day I realized it was possible, forgiveness after betrayal, love after hatred, healing after abuse.

There were many people who offered advice on how to move past it, even how to avoid it, suppress it, forget it, pretend it wasn’t real. The truth is none of them know your story so how could they possibly tell you how to write it’s ending?

Then, I met the One who changed everything.

He taught me to dream again, to believe in me again. He taught me how to breathe again. He taught me how to look again and see things in my story no one could have seen before, except the One with the pen. That’s the day I realized I wasn’t the author of my life story, I was the pen. Not just a scribble of ink but a fine calligraphy in the hand of a Master Penman. The blotches on my life weren’t just accidental smears, they were to become my unique markings that set me apart from every other story. I was becoming His signature, and in His hands I realized I could let go and just be the pen. A pen through which His ink could flow and love pour through without leaving a murky residue.
{Waking Eve: Waking Sleeping Beauty by Kim Engel}

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