Short Stories

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It was October 18, 1999. I sat under an oak tree in the park by my apartment and enjoyed the shade that it provided. I couldn't help but allow my mind to race with memories that had occurred so long ago. They were terrorizing and overwhelming. Hoping to find some kind of relief, I shut my eyes and wrapped my hands around my legs. I assumed that I probably looked like a crazy person sitting under a tree in the park, but it didn't matter. I was overwhelmed and I needed to think things out, alone.

Contrastingly, instead of finding peace, I merely saw the images of the accident more clearly playing over and over in my mind. One tear rolled down my left cheek. For some reason I couldn't let go of my legs, I wanted to remain in one position and never move from it again. I felt so tense. My throat was in a knot and my heart was desperately searching for a cure. I would never again let anyone in, I thought.

It was October 18, 1992. I was getting ready for another church service. I was excited to go yet there was a lot of tension in the atmosphere. I felt like something was going to go wrong but I just ignored the feeling. I heard my mom's voice yelling from downstairs, "Adella, would you hurry up?! We're gonna be late again!" "Now I don't understand why you girls have to get all pretty to go to church, it seems pointless to me...." She rambled on for a couple minutes until I finally raced down the stairs to where she was. "Ok, ok. I'm here. Are you happy now? Don't you understand there is no real reason for me to go to church! And I'm only going because I made him a promise!" She rolled her eyes and walked towards the garage.

Our relationship now consisted of sarcastic remarks and lack of trust, along with very little communication. Ever since dad had passed away we had grown very distant. I was involved in school a lot more than I was involved in church. I knew I had chosen to do this. I also knew deep down inside that God had something better for me but I thought that by giving in I would be accepting that He had taken my dad away, and that was out of the question. The only reason we attended was because we promised my dad we would before he died.

My mom's drastic change after dad's death had affected me a lot. She had gone from sweet and loving, to bitter and cold. She would occasionally visit my grandmother, but other than that she spent all of her time alone in her room when she got home from work. I was surprised we had kept the promise of attending church for so long. It was almost like in the midst of the silence, we both knew that going to church brought us peace.

Before dad's death, mom was an active member of the church. She enjoyed teaching the kids there, and she was always coming up with new ways to fundraise money for Missions trips. Seeing her fall apart was my excuse to shut myself to the people at church and God himself. Deep down inside I knew that I could help her, maybe even save our relationship, but I was afraid that my efforts would be in vain.

As I strapped on my seat-belt I felt the overwhelming tension once again. I felt goose-bumps up and down my back, but once again I ignored it. I looked over at my mother and her face resembled mere anguish. I wanted to hug her so bad, but I didn't. She started the car and we were off to church. There was an awkward silence; I could feel her pain and her desire to surrender everything to God, yet something was holding her down. She was still tied down to the past, and she had grown so cold towards God because she resented Him for taking her husband. I didn't understand why I could sense this, but I felt it so intensely that it made me nervous. I looked over at her face once again. She had given up everything she dreamed to accomplish because she had decided to resent God instead of to forgive Him. Tears came streaming down my face. I remained silent with regret. Suddenly, a car came flying from the left side of the road and it crashed into the side of the car where my mother was. I lost my breathe and I was out.


When I awoke, I was in a hospital room. Everything was surreal and it felt like a dream. I did not believe what had just happened! The crash replayed over and over in my head. Suddenly I was paralyzed with fear. "Was mom ok?" The mere thought of her death filled me with so much panic I tried to get up and yank off all of the equipment on me, but the nurse raced into my room and held me down tight to the bed. "Where is she?" "Where is she!?" "Let me see her!" I was infuriated and I could feel my face burning red and tears rolling down my face.

The nurse wouldn't answer me. She just kept avoiding looking me in the eyes. "Look at me!" "Take me to my mom! I need to hug her before it's too late!" "Take me!!!" I felt like a little kid that was desperately begging for something. The nurse finally looked me in the eyes, and merely one look said it all. I knew my mother was gone. The nurse let me go and said, "I'm so sorry". She walked out of the room and left me there alone. The state of my loneliness dawned on me heavily. I cried till I had no tears left...

Years later, I was sitting under an oak tree asking God the same questions I had asked him since that night when my mother had passed away; Why did you take everything I had? What have I ever done to you? Why didn't you take me instead? The memories of my mother's death stung at the core of my heart. They were drenching with bitter pain. I had decided to resent God as well.

Suddenly, I felt someone tugging at my shoulder, but I didn't want to look up. They tugged harder. I opened my teary eyes and looked up. It was an old man. He spoke before I could even think anything of him, "Why should we forgive God if he has taken everything from us?" His eyes had a sweetness and a love that merely penetrated and almost soothed the pain in my heart. I didn't know what to say to him. Before I could respond he continued, "Can I sit with you for a minute?" To my surprise I nodded in approval. He sat down and said, "Sweetie, let me tell you a story about the love of God." "One day you will forgive God, and that day you will be free." "Do you care to hear?" There was so much peace coming from this man I had not once seen in my life, that I couldn't resist hearing what he had to say.
When he was done with his story he said goodbye and he left.

I had never felt so free before. I didn't even know what it meant to be free until that day. I knew that as he spoke I had released the pain that had held me captive for so many years. It was not even his words that shook me; it was the presence he carried that overwhelmed me. It was October 18, 1999 and I was free.

That day, I forgave God and His forgiveness set me free. I learned he hadn't taken my mother and my father on purpose. He wanted to teach me that even without them, I would still survive if I held on to Him with my whole heart. The old man that sweetly took the time to speak to me impacted my life forever. He too had one day lost all of his family. God had showed him in a vision that he would speak to a girl sitting under a tree about the power of forgiveness. The most beautiful part about that day at the park was that I was no longer blind and captive, I now had a fresh revelation that God was my father. He was now my family, and He would never leave me. As I look back, I remember hoping that I would find peace under the tree, but I never expected God to surprise me in such a loving way.

I'm married now and I have two kids. I've taught them that the power of forgiveness is essential in their walk with the Lord.
I know that one day I will see my mother and father in heaven, and that brings me joy. I deeply miss them and I wish that I could go back to the last moment I ever saw my mother, and tell her that the love of God can set her free. I wish that I could tell my father how much I loved him. But its too late now.
The only thing I have left are mere memories.


Are you going to wait until it's too late?

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