Sometime in the middle of the night I awoke and in my daze of sleep I forgave. Not sure why this happened in the middle of the night, but I faintly remember forgiving in the middle of the night. I guess it's time for us to forgive our father's or anyone else that may have wounded you. I am sorry to think of all the years people may have endured some bitterness that I redirected at them from a wound that goes way back. As someone has said, forgiveness is setting a prisoner free and then discovering the prisoner was you. I stayed so unhappy for years because I felt my father didn't give me the love I knew I deserved. Then I began to think of him not as someone who deprived me of love or attention, but as someone who himself had been deprived somehow. My father had his own wounds I come to find out. I guess forgiveness is a choice. It is not a feeling, but an act of the will. We can acknowledge that it hurt, that it mattered, and we chose to extend forgiveness. I'm not saying that it didn't really matter. I'm saying it was wrong, it mattered, and I release you. The forgiveness in the middle of the night wasn't my father, that was a while back. The forgiveness was of someone who took something away from me at an early age. It's easier to forgive I think when you realize they may have had a wound that no one ever offered to heal. This is a hard one for many I'm sure, it's still hard for me.
Have you forgiven your father or those who have wounded you?