Forgive Them, Father, For They Know Not What They Do
Forgive Them, Father, For They Know Not What They Do It’s been 11 months since my world went into a full tailspin. 11 months of brokenness and hope. 11 months of hurt and healing. To protect myself, my children, and even my ex, the details are hidden. I haven’t told my side to many, and I don’t feel the need to. It’s too much to carry, let alone explain. I’m exhausted. And the truth is, I don’t owe anyone my story. But silence comes with a cost. When you don’t speak, others fill in the gaps. With assumptions. With judgment. With conclusions drawn from fragments. There has been loss. There have been misunderstandings. There have been wounds, some deeper than I expected to survive. I lost my belongings, my home, most of my family, and my church community at large. In the middle of it, there were moments that could have hardened me. At some of my most vulnerable points, there were people who were meant to help, people in positions of guidance, of authority, and of care who instead caused ...
