When Your Abusive Pastor Dies

This is one of the most powerful posts I’ve read…

“And it can bring life if you let it. If you have the courage to remember. If you have the courage to die a little bit in order to forgive. Because when you say, “I forgive you” and commit yourself to him who judges justly, you take into yourself a small piece of the death of the One who said “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Here is my comment on the post:

“Thank you, thank you for this post. It brought such peace to my heart that I needed so much. I’m going to share your blog on mine. It’s so very good.

As I was reading this a memory came to my mind of the day many years back when God shed light on some major deception in my life, so much so that I put my face on the floor and begged for forgiveness. I was so afraid.

But then I looked at my hands. God impressed on my heart so strongly how He’d suffered and died for me. He overwhelmed me with the knowledge that He loved me and forgave me.

That day it didn’t make sense to me, but I knew He was calling me to a life where I was going to suffer, too.

A few years later I met my own abusive pastor.

Now I know what God meant that day and I know He’s calling me to continue to remember, feel the pain and forgive.

Because that’s what He did.

So thanks again. This was so powerful!

I’m so sorry for your pain. I agree with the other person who commented on this post, I’m glad the pastor can’t abuse any longer, but like you I realize the death of those who bring harm doesn’t bring relief, but a deep sadness. I felt it in your writing.

It caused me to pray for the pastor who abused me, who according to his wife refused to read my letter saying I forgave…

I don’t want him in my life any longer, but I do pray that he and his family are healed.”

Liberty for Captives

When you hear that your abusive former pastor is dead, the news will not bring you peace and it is unlikely to bring you joy.

I am unhappy to say this but it’s true nevertheless and so there it is. What was broken in life cannot be mended by death. Death has no power to heal, to restore, to resurrect. You cannot unbend your twisted life on another person’s casket. A gravestone is no anvil.

I could take you to the exact spot where I learned that my former pastor was dying. Out walking at a local park, halfway between the pitcher’s mound and home plate, with brick dust rising in slow clouds around my feet and August sun pressing down hot and hard. I flicked through my Facebook newsfeed and there it was: the man was about to die. His son asked for prayers as he made the long…

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