As Kristen navigated the path through the snow-covered trees, her mother’s words played on repeat through her head. “Your father is dying, and he wants to see you.” She slowed the car as a deer bounded across the road. Despite the circumstances, she couldn’t help smiling at the winter wonderland around her. In the city, the snow quickly turned to gray piles of slush, but here, it was gorgeous. Still, it felt like spring would never come.

She made the final turn into her childhood neighborhood. Her palms grew slick on the steering wheel. Fourteen years. She hadn’t been home in fourteen years. Jack had wanted to come along, but she needed to do this on her own. As she pulled into the driveway, she relived the last time she’d been in this house. Her father hadn’t raised his voice, but the harsh words made her wince, even now.

“If you run off with that boy, this is no longer your home. And you will no longer be my daughter.”

She swallowed hard and pressed down her anger. Jack was a good man and a good father. So what if his skin was a different color? Dad was a bigot, plain and simple. He didn’t deserve to get to know her amazing, beautiful children. It broke Mom’s heart to have to sneak off and meet them, but it wasn’t Mom’s fault Dad was so prejudiced. Anger rose again. Why was she even here? Dad didn’t deserve her forgiveness. This wall around her heart was like the snow covering everything as far as the eye could see.

She pulled into the driveway and stared at the house. They’d had such good times here. Her heart ached for what could have been. Big family Thanksgiving dinners, gathering under the Christmas tree… At least Jack’s family was accepting. They were amazing, actually. They didn’t care Jack had married a white girl, or that she’d given them lighter-skinned children. Jack’s family unconditionally accepted her kids. A tear slid down her cheek. She wiped it away just as the front door opened.

Mom stood in the doorway. Her face was thinner than the last time Kristen had seen her. Her normally perfect gray bob was tousled, as if she’d been running her hands through it. Kristen’s heart squeezed. As much as her father hurt her, her mother needed her right now. She exited the car and hurried into her mother’s arms.

Mom hugged her tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been praying for this day for a long time.” Kristen’s throat tightened and she could only nod as Mom ushered her inside.

The smell hit her first. How was it possible that her home still smelled exactly the same? A combination of Mom’s perfume, laundry detergent, and the faintest hint of mildew, no matter how much Mom tried to mask it. Kristen allowed the familiarity to seep into her soul.

“He’s in the family room.” Mom moved through the kitchen, guiding Kristen, as though she hadn’t spent the first 22 years of her life in this house. Kristen tamped down the emotions swirling through her gut as she stepped into the family room. There he was. Her larger-than-life father sat in the recliner with a blanket in his lap. He had lost his once thick chestnut brown hair, and his frame appeared gaunt. Her defenses came crashing down. She moved closer and took a seat on the sofa next to his recliner.

Dad’s eyes were closed, and Kristen took a moment to study his face. Was it possible to forgive him? The man who had rejected her, her husband, and her children? The man who forbade her to come home?

Kristen sat back against the sofa and stared out the sliding glass door. There, scattered amidst the ice and snow, bloomed hundreds of snowdrops. Kristen’s mouth dropped open. She’d forgotten about the little flowers. To her, they represented God’s promise that no matter how harsh the winter, spring always came. Peace entered her heart for the first time since her mother’s call.

“You came.”

Kristen turned to find Dad’s eyes on her. “I did.”

Dad was silent for a long moment, but then he reached out his hand.

Kristen stilled, but her heart prompted her to reach out. She took Dad’s thin, frail hand in hers. She bit her lip as Dad’s eyes grew shiny with tears.

“Kristen.” Dad’s voice was shaky, but somehow still commanding.

“I’m here, Dad.”

His grip was weak, but Dad still managed to squeeze her hand. “I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

Ephesians 4:32
Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.

God, thank You for the power of forgiveness. As hard as it is to forgive those who have wronged us, it is far more difficult to live with unforgiveness. Just as spring always follows winter, please help thaw our hearts and help us to be open to forgive others, even when they don’t deserve it. We don’t deserve Your forgiveness, but You freely offer it anyway. Thank You for Your persistent love for us. Please help us extend that love to others. In Jesus’ name, Amen.