forgiveness.
I’ll take a risk and say something revealing.
All of my life, I’ve been, next to my dad, the most forgiving person.
And then I think my father had a little extra forgiveness tucked away for me.
That’s not to say. I can’t be nasty, or blind, or even selfish. I suffer from every distinctly human trait. Some more than most.
I just can’t keep an angry state. I have this overwhelming sense of hope. I can’t help but see another side besides my own.
I don’t know that all of this giving and forgiving is a good thing. I know it’s come back to bite me. I’ve the marks to prove that’s so.
Can one person be too forgiving? My head tells me that it could be a fact.
My heart tells me “no.”
I like my heart’s answer best.
