I Forgive You

 These are the words that were sent to my dad and possibly to his youngest brother, by their middle brother (after the oldest was tragically killed in a train accident when the engineer gave the oldest of four permission to ride in the engine car and the train met another train with loose lumber which flew through the windshield and pierced the oldest in the neck and killed him). The middle brother had been estranged by his two brothers for his homosexual lifestyle (I was the closer to him than my brother and I never saw him display this after his relationship with the one man he introduced to our family ended). In their defense, he told me in an email much later that he was also a participant in that separation.

I guess sometime before I received that email, the middle brother sent a card: "I forgive you." The older brother was unaware of what he had done and unfortunately didn't write a letter back to his brother, but then again, it's probably just as well. As my grandmother used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."

After the middle brother passed away a few years ago (you can read his obituary presumably written by his youngest brother, here), there was much drama between the youngest brother and the friends of the middle brother who was now deceased, and I got caught in the middle. Actually, there has been some drama between the youngest brother and I over theological disagreements. Had I to do it over again, I would not have made any contact with the deceased brother's friends because that just made everything worse. In the end, my relationship with the youngest, which was somewhat on the mends, was terminated per his request.

I thought much about the books of Leland's that were suspended from being purchasable at Amazon.com. I've beat myself up for that because I made it easier for that to be done by having the deceased person's phone sent to his younger brother rather than to me, as I was abroad in South Korea, where I still am today. Little did I know that he would use the passwords he had access to, to delete as much of the deceased brother's intellectual property as possible. 

That bothered me for months, possibly a year or more. Then I went to church one day and as I was praying in the chair (They don't have pews at this church), I heard a voice (If you know me, you know I don't put much stock in claims to hearing God's voice but I truly believe this was the Holy Spirit talking to me, not in an audible voice, of course) tell me: "Forgive him."

And like that, the burden and anger I had felt for so many months, was gone. Of course there is the hurt from the broken relationship that lingers and I am sure it always will. For anybody who believes in separating from their family, I urge you to think twice about it because you have no idea how hurtful it is. It hinders a person in many areas. But we must move forward anyway, right?

I came to find out in a conversation with my brother that even when God empowers us to forgive, it is not so simple as one simple prayer or even releasing that pain. 

As you will read in the obituary, while Leland was hurt by what his brothers did to him, his brothers were also hurt by the lifestyle he chose (I've seen many lines recently from movies where they say, "We always have a choice."), even though he maintained it wasn't a choice. Inevitably, we choose, one way or another, whether it's due to our sexual orientation or whatever (In my humble opinion which, as you may know, is not always so humble).

So as I seek to forgive and keep forgiving the last living uncle on my father's side who chooses not to have a relationship with me, I am reminded that I have also done things to bring this on and I own those statements, attitudes and actions, and I hope and pray that just as it happens in my dreams, we will someday be able to talk face to face and that the heartache that we both feel will be resolved before something bad happens to either one of us.

I forgive you. Can you forgive me?