Healing Line

Healing Line

Forgiveness: A Christmas Gift

by Roberta Simmons
Winter 1998

Forgiveness is, without a doubt, the most wonderful gift you can give anyone. It is a release from a prison of rejection, a leap into joy from despair, a balm of healing that restores life and self–worth. But it is altogether another matter to give that gift. Most of the time it is almost impossible to do, completely, without the touch of grace from on high.

On one of the first visits Judith and Francis MacNutt made to Jacksonville, I heard Judith give a talk on the healing of memories. She told the story of a little girl, now a grown woman, whose father had died at a hospital. The little girl had been left out in the hall and never allowed to tell her daddy good–bye. Judith took her back in her memory to that heartbreaking moment. The "little girl" saw Jesus coming down the hall. He came right to her chair and picked her up in His arms, and took her in to see her daddy. Her daddy sat up and took her from Jesus into his lap, and they hugged and kissed and talked. He told her he was going to go with Jesus but that he would see her again. She kissed her daddy good–bye, and Jesus took her in His arms back out into the hall. The "little girl" was healed of her wounded heart, and the grown woman was free to go on with her life.

As you can probably guess, Judith punched my button, rang my bell and pulled my chain. Things I had not thought about in years began to flood my mind, and I was awakened one night with the memory of Miss Tinkey, someone who hurt me terribly and drastically changed my life forever.

My childhood was engulfed in love. We lived with my Grandma and step–Grandpa. My Grandma adored me, probably because of all the problems I had, and she was so tenderhearted. I adored her, too. Even though she had three other grandchildren who were close to her in her younger years, I was the flower of her old age. I can remember so well sitting on her lap on the front porch as she rocked me and in her broken English told me stories of her childhood. I still miss her and that special love she gave so freely. My Grandpa was a kind and gentle man, a fisherman at heart, and I never realized he was not my own Grandfather, nor did it matter because he treated me with so much love and affection.

My Aunt Sue and Uncle Harry lived a few blocks away. They had only one son, so I was the little girl they never had. Aunt Sue was a seamstress and made every pretty dress I wore to Sunday School. I thought I was so lucky to have an aunt like her. Uncle Harry made me laugh a lot! We had loads of fun together, especially when we all went fishing and crabbing.

I was the apple of my daddy's eye, and we shared a very special bond. In the 43 years I was his daughter, through good times and bad, we loved each other. His weaknesses were many, but his heart was that of a child — a child without proper discipline who really didn't understand the real consequences of his actions. He would often look up to heaven and marvel at the beauty of the clouds or look at the loveliness of a rose and be amazed at God's creation.

One of the last memorable statements he made from his heart, on Thanksgiving Day 1978, before he had his heart attack the following January was, "Nothing will ever come above Jesus Christ with me." My brothers thought this was stupid coming from "the old drunk" but I heard a little lost child asking for understanding and forgiveness. I know he received these from his Heavenly Father. I thank God for my earthly daddy because he gave me such a compassion for anyone with weaknesses and addictions — and we all have them, don't we!

My mother has been the "angel" in my life and at 86, she still is. She is the only reason I made it through all the trials of my life. Because Jesus led her through her own trials, she showed me the way. I lived through major surgeries because she would kiss the palm of my hand each night before she left the hospital, leaving the red lipstick impression of her lips. She would tell me to hold my hand close to my heart and know she was right there with me all night long. She saved me from losing my mind in fear, and the nurses had to pry my fingers open to wash my hand the next morning.

I thought the whole world was like this, but I was wrong.

I was born with a cleft palate and had to endure five major surgeries between the ages of six months and five years, since it kept tearing out. I still remember in detail my last and hardest surgery: the ride on the gurney down the hall as they took me away from my mama; the big white light over me as they put me on a cold table; the people standing around me with their hair all covered in white caps and masks over their faces. All I could see was their eyes, and I tried to scream but something was put over my nose and it smelled so awful.

Miss Tinkey was a World War One ex–Army nurse and the first person I saw when I awoke from this operation. Since I was scared and in a lot of pain, I began to cry. It was then I realized they had tied my hands down and I couldn't move. They had packed my mouth, so I couldn't talk. I was also in a baby crib. What five–year–old wants to be in a baby crib?

As I lay there terrified and crying, begging for my mommy, Miss Tinkey leaned over me and said in the most hateful voice, "If you don't stop crying, I won't let you ever see your mother." My mind must have snapped, because this only made me cry harder and hurt more. Then something awful happened to me. I felt a burning inside my chest and very slowly realized — I hated Miss Tinkey. That day, so long ago, hate was born in the heart of a five–year–old girl, and it took over 40 years or more before she let it go!

I'm sure that by this time Miss Tinkey has long since gone to meet her Creator. My mama always taught me to forgive someone if they were mean to you. But I had not done this until I heard Judith's lecture and He gave me back this memory. Jesus, through Judith, showed me how to go back into my memory and begin to forgive Miss Tinkey.

Miss Tinkey was only the first of many Miss Tinkeys in my life. My cleft palate brought on a myriad of other problems: sinus problems, tonsilitis, a deviated septum, a mastoid infection in my right ear, loss of hearing, and later in my life an unrelated disease: Polio. But after so many years, God finally showed me how to release them all to him. He has taught me that He alone can judge. My hatred only makes me less than my Savior intended me to be. What was intended for my destruction, God has used for my new beginning and deep joy. Praise God, I am free indeed!

If Jesus, who was God, could endure watching those Roman soldiers making that crown of thorns, being careful not to stick their own fingers, then watch as they came toward Him ready to pound it into His head, if He can forgive that and all of what they did to Him, can't I forgive Miss Tinkey and the others like her in my life?

Can't you, this Christmas, give that one special gift to your "Miss Tinkey" and forgive her? Whether your Miss Tinkey let's you love her or accepts your forgiveness is irrelevant. Forgiveness is a gift not only for the person, but for you and ultimately, for your Savior. Because in order to become conformed to the image of Christ, we must learn to forgive. We are called to love our enemies. We are to return evil with good and pray for those who despise us and persecute us. No matter what the offense, He forgives you — can you do less?

"As you forgive, so shall ye be forgiven." And Jesus' last words, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do". Don't you think that for Jesus' sake, we should lay our burdens at the foot of that manger, as a gift, this Christmas and be "Wise Men" and give Him the gift that only He can handle?

"I have come that you might have life," Jesus said. That sweet baby in that manger has come again this Christmas to bring us JOY. Let "Miss Tinkey" go — then we can truly REJOICE.

Roberta Simmons is married to Jimmy, and they live In Jacksonville. A gifted CHM prayer minister, she ministers to many people in her life because of her tender heart and Joyful spirit. She adds an addendum to her story: '"Judith, Merry Christmas. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for lighting the path for me. It's taken almost 20 years for me to finally have the opportunity to say to you what has been in my heart for so long. Jesus truly makes a way where there seems to be no way. I praise God for you."


Roberta Simmons is a prayer minister at CHM Winter 1998 Issue