There are moments when the past doesn’t stay buried. It shows up in the silence, in the stillness, in the places we thought we had already closed the door. We spend years telling ourselves we’ve moved on, only to discover that what we’ve avoided is still waiting, patient and insistent.
Forgiveness, when it comes, is rarely clean. It isn’t about erasing what happened or pretending it didn’t wound us. It’s about sitting with the discomfort long enough to see the person on the other side as more than the harm they caused. To recognize them as human, flawed and fragile, and—if we’re willing to look deeper—as something more than human too.
This is the work of letting in what we once pushed away. It’s messy, it’s costly, and it’s also where grace begins to take shape. When we stop resisting the presence of the past, we sometimes find that what enters is not just pain, but the possibility of healing.
Read the full reflection on Substack: Letting Him In
