In my last blog I wrote about training camp and all the crazy things that happened but I left this story out because it honestly deserves its own post.
While at training camp I learned a lot, but the one thing really stuck with me was the power of forgiveness. When I choose to not forgive someone for the wrong that they did I’m not walking in freedom and the only person I’m hurting is myself. The pastor who was preaching this message said, “Forgiveness will never change your past, but it will change your future.”
So here it is, I’m about to get real personal with y’all.
It’s been two and a half years since my oldest brother Mike passed. Sometimes when I think of the day it happened. It seems like it was yesterday and I can vividly remember every detail. Other times it just seems so far away, almost like a lifetime ago. But one thing that hasn’t changed is the simple fact that I miss him.
Grief is a weird thing. One moment in the day can bring back all the hurt and the pain. A lot of people told me that it gets easier after a while but honestly, you just learn to live with it. I’ve learned to live with the constant empty void that he left. I’ve learned that sometimes you just have to feel the pain and cry even if you look like a complete wreck.
What most people don’t know is that I’ve carried guilt with me since the day I found out he was gone. I carried guilt because the last time I spoke to him I was angry. Angry over some things that happened when we were kids, and it had built up over the years. The last time I saw him I wouldn’t even look him in the eyes, I barely spoke to him. In my mind I had a right to be angry with him. I thought I had my whole life to forgive him, he wasn’t going anywhere right? So what was the issue if I held onto my anger a little longer?
The last time I spoke to my brother was December 26, 2015. Three months later I got the call that he had gone. It killed me the most that I had never taken five minutes out of my day to call him or send a quick text. Every part of me went numb. I felt like I was in a complete daze. It was a dream, right, this wasn’t supposed to happen to my family, he was too young to go. I still had things I needed to say to him. I was still supposed to have time to be angry. I still needed time to forgive him.
I was angry. It boiled inside of me and I hated God. I asked over and over why, why God would take my brother from me when he knew I had so much left to say to him? I blamed God for this tragedy.
I also blamed myself. What if I would have let go of my anger? What if I would have forgiven him when I got the chance? At least I wouldn’t have wasted the last three months that he was here with us.
Through all of this, there was one thing that I didn’t tell a single person about. It was a prayer between me and God. After my brother passed I was angry but I still prayed, every day for two and a half years I prayed for just five more minutes. Just one last time with my brother, just five more minutes so I could forgive him and find peace with his death. In the back of my mind, every time I prayed this for the past two years I thought that it was kinda ridiculous. I knew God could do impossible things but how could he ever answer a request like this? But I still continued to pray for it.
I’m guessing you might want to know how he answered this prayer?
I was about halfway through training camp. We had sessions multiple times a day and in the evenings we had worship and then the amazing pastor Deon would give a quick message. That night he talked about forgiveness the whole time I felt like he was talking directly to me which was crazy. At the end, he told us that if we had someone that we needed to forgive he and the other leaders would stand in for that person if it was a Dad or Mom.
He then looked over at my section and said, “Maybe you have a brother.”
Yes, I lost it and at that moment I felt God tell me that this was my moment to forgive Mike. I walked to a leader in the back of the room. He prayed with me and then said, “If your brother was here right now what would you say to him?”
Through the tears, I let it all out everything that I wanted to say to my brother these past two and a half years. After I let all of it out we hugged and in that moment it felt like my brother was there and I was hugging him one last time. God said to me at that moment, “This is your five minutes.”
After I felt a weight being lifted all the anger and the guilt was gone and for the first time in two and a half years I felt at peace.
I received my five minutes when I least expected it and in a completely different way then I would have ever guessed.
God knew what I needed. He knew how I needed to heal.
I still miss my brother. I don’t think that will ever change, but I can finally say that I’m truly at peace and I know one day we will be reunited in God’s kingdom. For now, I just have an extra guardian angel watching over me.
