My uncle Larry

Almost 28 years ago, I remember my mom waking us up one morning

to tell us that my uncle Larry died.

I can still remember trying to piece it all together and trying to grasp the whole idea of life and death. My uncle was only 26, and probably the most mild manner person I had known.  I was so confused.

Eventually things unfolded and I found out that my uncle was out 'coon hunting when a juvenile neighbor, named Steve (*not his real name) stabbed my uncle near the heart.  My uncle died on the way to the hospital.

Apparently Steve didn't like my uncle and did things to make his life difficult.  What made things slightly worse was he was the son of a local preacher. 

I never went to the trial and was shielded from most of the conversations.  I remember bits and pieces I saw on the news and the conversations of the adults around me.

Larry was my first funeral.  Everyone was crying and I was just numb looking at him in the casket.  I remember thinking why is he wearing makeup. 

The trial for my uncle didn't serve justice to my family.  Steve's parents hired him a top attorney and he was found not guilty of murder one.  He claimed he was out camping when a hunter started him.  His defense was 'self defense' but everyone knew he did it on purpose.

How does one live with themselves after purposely killing someone... Truth be told Steve eventually killed himself. 

I recall the satisfaction or justification my family spoke of once they heard the new of Steve's death.  It was as if they believed in karma and he got what he deserved.

I've learned much about forgiveness through this experience.  I don't know if my grandparents or father or my other uncle ever really forgive Steve.

We live in a broken world.  Heartache hit us all in different ways and at different times... Jesus knows what it feels like.  He encourages us all to seek forgiveness when our hearts are wounded.

Are there Steve's in your life?  Best way to heal is to forgive.