Part 2: She said, “You need to get a new God and learn how to forgive or you will die.”
And, Forgiveness Found Me
Last time, I told you the beginning of how I got a new God. There's still so much more to say about that, but today, I want to talk about the second half of that sentence. The one that truly changed the trajectory of my life:
“…and learn how to forgive or you will die.”
Getting a new God? That was a piece of cake compared to forgiveness.
Not easy, of course. But the 12 Steps gave me permission to form a God of my own understanding. That helped me start climbing out of the religious wreckage I’d been buried under.
But forgiveness?
Holy. Shit.
No one, and I mean no one knew what it was and how it actually worked.
Spiritual teachers had ideas. Therapists gave their best guesses. One therapist, a really good one, looked stunned when I asked her directly: “Can you tell me what forgiveness is and how to specifically do it?”
She paused and said, “I’ve been telling people to forgive for years. But no one has ever asked me that so bluntly. And I don’t think I really know.”
She was honest. Most people in authority weren’t.
I remember one pretty stab at the answering the question. I was at a local spiritual conference and a really vibrant woman spoke about the power of letting go. I figured surely she’s got the answer. I ran up to her at the end of the evening and asked her how it works. She said:
“Forgiveness is when the person who hurt you can walk through your mind and you’re not triggered. You feel nothing - no resentment, no charge.”
Okay. Better than most. But even that was just describing the result - not the how.
What I knew for sure was this: I needed relief.
Because as I got deeper into recovery, through my 12 Step work, trauma healing, and spiritual practice, the images from my traumatic childhood began haunting me more vividly. Terrifying, soul-wrenching images. The sexual abuse I endured when I was six… and the ongoing emotional and psychic abuse of growing up in a world that hated gay boys like me.
The past would just pop in - uninvited, merciless, and vivid. I’d be sipping coffee, laughing with a friend, and then bam!, an image of a little boy being sexually violated would take over my inner screen.
And sex? That was the worst. Even when I was with someone I trusted and genuinely cared about, the past would hijack me. I'd freeze. Shut down. Shame would flood my nervous system like poison.
And I was working hard to heal. Weekly therapy. Group therapy. 12 Step meetings. Workshops. Books. Prayer. Sobriety. Journaling. Screaming. Meditating. You name it … I tried it.
*****
Fast forward. I was 29. I was all in on my spiritual studies. I had just completed my Unity Teacher’s licensing program, which I needed to complete in order to apply for their ministerial training. I was certain I’d be accepted into the school. I’d worked my ass off. Everyone knew I was committed. One teacher had even called me a “master teacher.” I didn’t even know what that meant, but I took it as a green light.
I filled out the application. Got all my letters of recommendation. Dotted the i’s and crossed all the t’s ….. and I didn’t get in.
I was devastated. I had no plan B.
I didn’t get it. To say I went a few rounds with God would be putting it lightly. I really thought this was it. I became depressed. I mean … wtf?
A few months went by and I was starting to feel some hope again. I was working as a dancer and choreographer, and doing well, so I decided to go all in by moving to Los Angeles. I packed up my little blue Honda Civic and rode across the country.
Once there, life really began to open up for me. I reconnected with dancers I’d known in Chicago and found a spiritual community and ministerial program that was ten times better than the one I was trying to get into.
You know the saying - when God shuts a door he opens a window. Well, God threw open all the windows and all the doors on this blessing …. I dove in with all my heart.
The 12 Step rooms in L.A. were unlike anything I’d experienced—sunlight pouring through the windows, people laughing, crying, living. Healing felt possible again.
But still - the trauma kept reappearing. Especially in moments when I most wanted to be present and whole.
I started working with a spiritual counselor. Her name was Victoria, and she was love wrapped in wisdom wrapped in love. In one session, after I’d shared yet again the pain I couldn’t shake, she gently said:
“What if this could be forgiven?”
I leaned in, wide-eyed. “Tell me more.”
She smiled, closed her eyes, and said, “Let’s ask.”
Her prayer was simple, direct, and infused with divine authority. She asked that forgiveness set me free! She asked God to remove all of it, conscious and unconscious mind, mental and emotional field, energetic body and on all planes of existence … I mean, she went to the end of the Universe and beyond with this prayer.
The next day, I flew to Chicago for a job I was being considered for - a national touring play about teen suicide. When I sat down at the table read I realized the main character’s suicide was the result of sexual abuse.
I froze. My body went ice-cold, sweat dripping down my spine. I sat there in a silent panic, praying no one noticed I was unraveling inside.
Somehow I made it through. To this day I remember walking onto the plane to fly back to L.A. feeling exhausted. The trauma was alive and well in me - and it felt worse than I had ever experienced.
I took my assigned seat by a window. I put my sunglasses on and turned my head towards the window to hide the tears streaming down my face.
And then these words came to my lips …
“God, please … let this all be forgiven within me. I don’t know how to do it. Please help me.”
I said them over and over. But it felt like they were saying me.
And then something happened. Something truly mind blowing. Something mystical …
I felt God within me. It was like “he” gently took my head and pulled it back so I was looking at the abuse like a movie on a screen.
Then, as clear as any sound, I heard God say, “See this… as I see this.”
And as I watched the image I’d seen a thousand times—it began to melt. Like candle wax.
The entire horrifying image melted and behind it … I saw light. I saw light dancing with light.
And then I heard God say, “This is all that is real. Light dancing with light. In back of all the suffering, the warring, the fear and the pain is my world. It is light dancing with light.”
I saw the man who abused me - and I saw his pain. His repression. His unspoken truth. His fear. And I saw something more:
I saw his innocence.
And in that instant we were both set free.
Then God took the entire memory and crumpled it up like a piece of paper and threw it up into the sky … It burst into fireworks.
The final word said to me in this mystical, miraculous, healing experience were,
“This story will never harm you again. It is forgiven. It is done.”
I was also told that the only time it would even come to mind was for teaching purposes or when I was internally guided to share it in service to another’s healing path.
I dedicated my time, prayers, energy, and life to forgiveness. And I was blessed with a miracle that is not of this world.
And today, I do know this …
Forgiveness works. It is not something we do.
We ask.
We ask again.
We become more humble and we ask some more.
And then, when grace swoops in, at the perfect time … it is done unto us.
_________________________________________________________________________
Want to learn more about how forgiveness works?
Listen to my interview on Miracle Voices HERE.
Today I help people all over the world heal spiritually. Book a free 20 minute Discovery Call.