The instructor asked me to look at my partner and say, “I forgive you for murdering my son.”

There wasn’t one bone in my body that wanted to say those words. Yet a small, quiet voice in my head said, You came here to get help, so give it a try.

This was difficult, and the words seemed to get stuck in my throat. I finally said them, but I didn’t mean them at all. This was obvious to the instructor, and she had me say it again, and again, and again, until the words were coming out with some true meaning of forgiveness.

My voice started to soften, and my voice quavered as I broke down and cried. My class partner put his arms around me until my raging sobs subsided. When I lifted my head, my eyes saturated with tears, I felt an inner peace flow into my body.

My hatred was lifting, my anger was more controlled, and a Spirit inside me was giving me the greatest peace I had ever felt. I was told this was the “Holy Spirit,” giving me the peace and courage I needed to go on. God was with me, Jesus was with me, and the Holy Spirit was within me. As I repeated the words of forgiveness over and over, I felt God working through me, giving me complete calmness and healing.

(Excerpt from book: “Forgiving the Killer while grieving Uriah”, by Susan Free.)