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Danielle's avatar

That was the best sermon on that text that I have ever heard/seen, and it makes so much more sense now. I think you are right, Nadia, and I think you have to be right, because it really doesn't make sense any other way. Thank you. And may we all have the grace we need to believe it, and forgive ourselves as well as others.

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Linda Olson's avatar

Welcome back!! I have missed you ❤️! There are some special people in my life, people I struggle with, people who hurt me, people who I hurt. I needed to hear that our Christ goes after them as if they were the precious lost coin. I needed to hear that forgiveness is not for just the few, but for all. It is available to all. My Spirit leaps for joy to hear this. It gives me hope, not just for those I think have fallen, but also for me!

When I share this Spirit-guided hope for all, people say, “But what about Judas, what about Hitler, what about…?” Well, if Spirit awakened in me, and I was touch and slowly changed, wouldn’t it be the same for others. And if they reject being found in this life, who knows? Maybe they are embraced and informed in the life after death?

I know our scriptures speak of hell. But I pray it is empty. I want my heart to be open enough to believe in eternal life that doesn’t require damnation. And it’s personal. My dad was an unbeliever. He was bipolar. You never knew when all hell would break loose in our home. You never knew when you would be condemned,or if it would be mom or my sister.

Dad lived to be 94. I was estranged from my dad for the last 10 years of his life. He was on meds by that time, but he never got over needing to control everyone. He never got over needing scapegoats. When my daughter married a black man, she committed the unforgivable sin in my dad’s eyes. He wrote her a nasty letter and claimed she was dead to him. My family rallied around her and her beloved because we didn’t believe this way. Dad was wrong. And none of my family wanted anything to do with him for the last 10 years of his life. It was our way of protecting ourselves. We couldn’t combat his hate, so we compounded his wound. But this was our mistake. We played into his game.

It wasn’t until the last year of his life that I asked the Holy Spirit to help us, me and Dad mended. That was hard. The Lord had me look at the situation from his perspective. I saw his isolation. I saw the rejection that he lived with. I saw his prison. He couldn’t accept us and love us because he couldn’t accept himself or love himself. He licked his wounds and growled, but never healed.

What would Christ do with him in the afterlife? Condemn him to hell for not believing in him? No, I believe he prepared a place for him, just as he prepares a place for me. And I imagine Jesus sitting beside him and having a long talk with my dad. Just as he will with me. But in the end, there is love.

Not sure how this wound up as a response, but I am glad it did. I still love my dad.

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