Saints Row 2 Cheat Engine
Oswalda Shutte
I preached a weekday sermon at Mary Queen of Heaven Church in Peebles, Ohio about an injustice done to me and my brother and sister. I shared the pain we felt being cheated out of thousands of dollars from my father's will.
When the sermon ended, a woman approached me. She offered me very wise advice. "Father Mike, you must let it go. Don't let the past hurt cheat you of happiness now." Her words gave me peace more than she will ever know.
Forgiveness means letting go of your need to punish or seek payback. Then you are free to enjoy the blessings in your life now without being shackled by resentment and anger. The price I would pay to hold onto my hurt would be far more than the money I lost.
There is a far more important reason to forgive than just a desire to be happy. Jesus says how you treat others is how God will treat you. If you claim your right to punish someone who hurt you, then God will claim His right to punish you. But when you show mercy, God will shower His mercy on you. I learned the blessing of mercy as a child when I did something really bad.
My cousin Christon and myself got brand new bikes for our birthdays. My rich aunt got me this cool, chrome-plated bike from Sears. Christon got a fast Schwinn bike painted fire engine red. He challenged me to a race. We met on a Saturday at a back-alley street. It was paved with cinders but good for racing as there were no curves.
My bike flew down that street like a shooting flame. I was winning the race, confident of victory. But tragedy struck. A little girl was playing in a sandbox near our racetrack. She got out of the box and walked onto the street. She did not see our bikes. I tried to stop, but I was going too fast. I hit her head on. She got lodged in my bike. I dragged her for several feet over the cinders. All I remember is that she was crying and screaming. She got up and ran away, but I didn't know where.
I was so traumatized that I forgot to tell my dad what happened. I just blanked out the accident. Eventually, the mother found out it was me who ran over her daughter. My dad was furious thinking that I purposely tried to hide this from him. He ordered me to go to that mother and apologize for what I had done.
I remember approaching the house where the little girl lived. I was so scared. Each step I took grew heavier and heavier. With a lump in my throat, I knocked on the door. My heart sank when I saw my victim who opened the door.
Mom spoke first. She said, "Sit down at the table." I expected her to yell at me. The little girl said, "Mommy and I have something to give you." I pictured being flogged, or maybe beaten with a paddle.
We sat down together at the kitchen table, eating cookies and drinking milk. They never gave me a chance to apologize. The girl said, "I told mommy you didn't mean to hurt me. We made you cookies to show we're not mad at you."
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