How Forgiveness Makes Love Richer

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On the day before my mother’s birthday I call her to tell her about the book I’ve written, my first work of nonfiction.

“It was just released last week,” I say. “And mom? I’ve done a couple interviews, and…well, people want to know about my childhood.”

She is quiet on the other end. This is a tender place for us. I’ve hurt her before in the telling of our story. In the trying to find a new way, I’ve questioned and judged the past; I’ve questioned and judged her. And there’s been a lot of water pass under the bridge for us to come to this place of calm.

 

I’m over at my friend Deidra’s today, sharing the rest of this story. Will you join us?

31 Playdates with God

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