When I was 10 or 11, my uncle used to molest me. This went on for a while. I couldn’t tell anyone, not even my mum, who was close to him. Everyone loved him because he was a good person. I hated him.
I remember years later, when he was getting married; I planned to tell his wife, but something held me back. That was the last day I saw him.
Years later, after I became born again, I began to learn about forgiveness. It took a while, but I remember praying for him and letting him go. I hope the day I see him again, I won’t have so much hatred. I believe God has healed me and made me whole.