Grace Part Twenty One.
By Maxine Jasmin-Green
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The years went by then September 11th happened! That day changed by life forever! I decided on this date forever, I’d always wear black to remember all those who lost their lives, there are lots of conspiracy theories and my Husband Paul and I disagree with each other on them, but for me it was plain and simple, murder!
This disaster affected me SO much, I decided to make peace with my Uncle! Even though I thought I’d made peace with God and Uncle I wanted to make sure, as I’m that sort of person I have to know that all is well, we can fool people but not God, he knows us all our thoughts.
There was no point all was well with me and God, for what’s important to God is that where possible we make peace with each other, it wouldn’t be easy for he’d sexually abused me for many years when I was a child, and most, if not all the female girls from my Place of Worship and he’d gotten away with it all, he had now retired to a beautiful country with no police record to his name. On paper he was an upright Citizen, but in real life he was predatory paedophile, hiding behind religion, like a lot of them do, even to this day. A vile person to many, hated by a lot of people. He did a lot of damage to many, both sexually and spiritually. I remember hating his guts, I hated him with all my heart, but he like SO many like him, literally have NO fear of God! For how they can read their Bible, Pray, have Holy Communion, without fear of been struck down, is beyond me! But that’s exactly what he did.
For those he didn’t abuse in my Place of Worship, male people they thought he was the perfect role model. I threw away my small wedding cake that I’d be saving for my Child’s Christening, it was the top tier of my cake, it had been in the top of our freezer, yet every time I went in, I saw it wrapped up and thought of his filthy hands, making it. I told Paul, “I want to throw it away, it’s too disgusting to even give the birds, it must go in the bin,” Paul agreed with me 100%, so in the bin it went, wished I’d done it sooner! Justice is never done for an abuser, this it SO true around the World. They always get away with their crimes, whether they are shot, hung, given the electric chair, given life in jail or like my Uncle got away scot-free, it’s the person who has been abused, who has the sentence for life!
As I got older, and had more counselling, I learnt to try and get over him and the anger I felt. Many years later I saw on the Big Bang Theory, a fab comedy, someone pointed to his enemy’s forehead, and said, “I’m living rent free there,” That was so true of me, my Uncle was living rent free in my head! I’d have good days and bad days, hate him days and it’s all OK days, some would call it, “Working out my Salvation,” But in reality it wasn’t that. In God’s eyes it was still unforgiveness. None of us are perfect, not in God’s eyes but thankfully he sees us though Jesus’ Blood. It was Jesus who made atonement for us and I am Redeemed, but there was something very important I had to do. At the end of the day, I was also thinking of me, in 100 years from now, none of what I’m stressing about will matter. But I was still in the here and now.
I got my paper and wrote to my Uncle, I didn’t mention any of the abuse, and the hell I’d been through, for that wasn’t the point of the letter, it was to let him know I’d forgiven him. All important things I send Signed For, so I knew it was guaranteed to get there to him, even though it was all the way to the other side of the World.
I didn’t get a reply, I wasn’t expecting one. He’s far too old to be letter writing. My Mum came to visit me I asked her about the letter, she said, “We didn’t give him the letter,” I was horrified and asked, “Why not?” For that letter was very important to me, Mum said, “Every time, he hears your name he has mini fits, no other name does that to him, if we were to give him a letter and tell him it was from you, it would probably have killed him!” WOW!
I’d done my part and for that I was pleased, I could now say with the songwriter, Horatio Spafford “It Is Well, With My Soul.”
On Remembrance Sunday about 10 years ago, my Brother rang me to tell me he’d died. I’m not sure why he felt he had to ring me to tell me that, that Sunday I thought of those lives lost on September 11th and those in both World Wars and his many kids and all the lives he’d affected.
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Comments
I am so pleased to hear that
I am so pleased to hear that you found some peace for yourself in the end
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