How Love, Forgiveness, and Grace Healed a Lifetime of Hurt

I turned on his street, lined with houses. They were much older homes with manicured lawns and mailboxes. I thought about what I would say to him when I saw him. On the ride there, he phoned several times to make sure I was coming. I assured him I was and that I would be there soon. I read the house numbers to locate the right house. Then, I saw a man in the distance standing outside. It was him! He laughed. He wore a yellow short sleeved, button-down shirt with brown slacks. We parked and he came to the car. I opened the door, got out of the car and stood in front of him. He hugged me. He said, “Daddy is so happy to see you.” I smiled hugged him tight, holding back tears.

Two days are etched in my memory: August 21^st the day my father was born and January 19^th the day he died. Between those days lies a lifetime of love and conflict – memories that have shaped me in ways I’m only now beginning to understand. 

My dad and I had complicated relationship filled with love and long stretches of silence. The love we shared was heartfelt and genuine, but pain drove me away for 18 years. I still remember the joy of our rides on the ‘country’ roads of Northern Louisiana, the excitement of getting a Christmas tree without buying it, the way he would tell the same joke over and over, making us all laugh with him. But I also remember the impact of his absence, the pain of his decisions that led to our family struggles. Today, I want to share lessons I learned from reconnecting with him in his final years – lessons that have brought me peace. 

Lesson 1: Choose to Believe the Best About Others

When I’d heard my dad was down on his luck and had no place to live, it didn’t move me to reach out. It was a conversation I had with a colleague that changed my perspective. They told me about a book they were reading, a story of a mother and a daughter who found their way back to each other after years of estrangement. Something clicked in me that day – I realized I needed to be better, to be the person who chooses to see the good in my dad.

As I reflected on my dad, the memories of his failings came to mind first. But slowly, the good began to surface – the taste of his homemade biscuits, the way his laugh could fill a room, his gift for making strangers feel like friends. It took time and courage, but I decided to reach out, starting small with birthday calls and holiday greetings. Each conversation reminded me of the man he was, beyond his mistakes. And in doing so, I learned to believe the best about him, and others too.

Lesson 2: Look for the Good in the World Around You

My dad had numerous relationships. When I reconnected with him, my dad had married a woman we’ll call Brenda. She was a strong spirited woman who welcomed us in her home with open arms. From the start, she showed me the power of loving someone beyond their flaws. Brenda took my dad in when he had had nowhere else to go, and their relationship blossomed into something beautiful, even in the face of hardship. 

Brenda’s resilience was tested as she cared for my dad through his surgery, chemo, and hospitalizations. Despite her own struggles – like being legally blind and catching my dad stealing money from her purse– she remained steadfast. Her dedication taught me to look for the good in the world, even in the midst of pain and uncertainty. There are people like Brenda everywhere – people who choose love over judgement, who see the best in others when it’s not easy. 

Lesson 3: Show God’s Love in Your Interactions 

The last time I saw my dad, I sat next to him on the couch, feeling closer to him than I had in years. I didn’t want that feeling to end. We talked, laughed, and reminisced. A neighbor dropped by and spoke to me as if we’d known each other for years. My dad, being the jokester, laughed and said, “She seemed to know you from somewhere.” We shared a moment of joy, and I promised to visit again soon. 

But that visit never happened. Just weeks later, I received a call that he had passed away. In the days that followed, I realized how much those last interactions had meant – they were a demonstration of God’s love in our lives. My dad opened his heart to me. He call to tell me he was afraid of dying and admitted he regretted bad decisions. And I, in turn, had learned to extend grace, to offer forgiveness, and to share love with those who might not deserve it.

Today, I choose to believe the best about my dad. I am who I am because of Him – his strengths, his flaws, and everything in between. I choose to reframe the story, to see him not as someone who fell short, but as someone who did the best he could with what he had. Most of us are just trying to do what we think is right. We all fall short sometimes, and we all need grace. 

So, I ask you, who in your life needs to hear from you? Who have you written off believing they’re beyond redemption? Start small – reach out, offer a kind word, and see what happens. If they reject you, you’ve done your part. If they are no longer with us, find a quiet place and speak to them in your heart. You might be surprised by the healing that comes.