Growing up as a child in West Texas, when the sun was setting the neighborhood children would congregate for a game called hide-and-seek. If you’ve never played this game, you missed out on lots of fun!

At dusk, the moms and dads would stand at the doors calling for their children to come home. Usually, at the third call, with voices elevated coupled with the child’s full name, we all got the message and, reluctantly, bid each other “good night” until the next evening.

This was always the highlight of my week. In fact, beyond those games, I only recall a few other times in my childhood that were actually pleasant.

You see, I was born and raised in a dysfunctional home. My father was an alcoholic who progressed into a child abuser. Unfortunately, as a pastor, I’ve witnessed this scenario play out over and again, placing innocent children into a world of darkness and uncertainty.

One evening, for no apparent reason, except my fathers drinking, things went completely out of control. My father decided he was going to kill both my mother and I with a large kitchen knife. Fortunately, God spared us, and fleeing from the home, we hid behind a neighbor’s barn for the rest of the evening.

I will never forget when my appendix burst. I began vomiting, and because the pain was so severe I had to keep my right leg drawn in towards my stomach. My father told my mother that there was no need for a doctor, and I would get over it.

Because my mother worked, my siblings went to school and my father was nowhere to be found, I was left alone for three days. This would have continued until I died but fortunately my uncle dropped by and, seeing my condition, drove me to the hospital.

Later, I learned the doctor said my appendix had been burst for three days and gangrene had set in, saying that my only hope was a new drug called penicillin. He said that they would give it a try but, at best, there was still a fifty percent chance I would die.

When coming out of the coma, I recall my father and a nurse being in the room. The nurse smiled saying “I believe you’re going to be fine!” She then excused herself and, when she did, my father in a soft voice said, “I want you to know every day you’re in this (explicit) hospital your costing me money!” It was that day that I decided I would never forgive my father.

When I turned sixteen, God mercifully saved me. Then, shortly afterward, my father left for good. With him gone, coupled with God entering my life, I walked out of the darkness! The moment I accepted Him, the love I never experienced as a child was more than compensated for in a moments time!

A few years passed and I surrendered to the call of ministry. During this time God blessed me in ways I never dreamed possible. However, while ministering to others, I couldn’t release the negative feelings I held towards my father.

From the world’s perspective, because of the injustices that were placed on me, I would probably be given a pass. But not from God!

I could defend my case, sharing the time when my mother miscarried and had to bury her stillborn child in a shoebox in the backyard; all the while my father was at a bar with another woman.

I could defend my position even further by how he molested my younger sister, causing her to leave home at the age of fifteen. There were days I would let unforgiveness occupy my life, but each day became increasingly difficult because I was living a double standard.

One afternoon my phone rang. It was a hospital in Oklahoma City. The party asked my name and then proceeded to tell me that my father was dying and, as far as they knew, I was the only relative and that if I wanted to see him alive, I must come now.

I thanked her and hung up the phone. My first thought was, “Good riddance! He’s out of my life!” But, then, the Holy Spirit spoke to my spirit saying “You must go.”

With my emotions out of control, I called my wife letting her know the situation and that I was going to go.  Within thirty minutes I was on my way to Oklahoma City.

About twenty minutes into my journey, I began crying to the point that I had to pull off to the side of the road. Speaking between sobs, asking God “What are you wanting from me?” In my spirit, I distinctly heard him say “Forgive him, then invite him to accept me as his Lord.” I then knew my assignment. I just didn’t know how to do it.

When I arrived, I went directly to his room. He was conscious but he couldn’t speak. Instantly I opened my heart, sharing in detail the hurts and the pain that he had inflicted on his family. When I finished I said “Dad, I know you’re dying and I want you to know I forgive you for all you have done and if you want me to, I would like to help lead you to Jesus Christ. If that’s ok, nod your head.”

Big tears formed in his eyes then began to roll out onto the pillow. He nodded yes and at that moment two miraculous things happened! First, a sinner among sinners had come home to God, and then, an unforgiving spirit was removed out of my life. Within a few moments, I bid him goodbye saying I would see him again in heaven.

As I was walking into my home, the phone was ringing. It was the hospital calling letting me know that my father had passed away and said because he had died a pauper, they asked who would be responsible for his funeral expenses. Without hesitation, I said I would. Over the next few days I picked out the casket, the burial site, the clothes he would be buried in, and found a preacher to conduct the service.

So dear friend, if you are living with unforgiveness in your life, I want you to know two thousand years ago Jesus Christ built a bridge over the chasm of unforgiveness. It’s called the cross. All you have to do is step onto it. When you do, He will take your hand and guide you safely to the other side.

Philippians 3:13-14 brings all that I’ve shared into its proper perspective. “Brothers and sisters, I do not consider that I have made it my own yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the [heavenly] prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”