Have Trauma : Choose Forgiveness
On 18 Sept, I sat down and wrote letters to my parents. Not just letters of remembrance or updates on my life, but letters that spoke directly to the pains of my childhood. Letters that carried the weight of trauma, but also the gift of forgiveness.
This wasn’t easy. For years, I buried hurt and confusion, telling myself it was just part of life. But as I’ve grown older, and especially as I’ve become a parent myself, I realized how much of that unspoken pain had shaped me. Some of it made me stronger, yes. But some of it also left scars that still ached in ways I couldn’t ignore.
I’ve learned that unaddressed pain doesn’t just disappear. It hides in the corners of our hearts and creeps into our relationships, our self-worth, and our sense of peace. For me, carrying that weight meant living with a version of myself that still belonged to the past.
So I wrote. I wrote with trembling hands, not to accuse, but to release. Not to reopen wounds, but to finally let them heal.
In those letters, I told the truth of my childhood, not with bitterness, but with honesty. I acknowledged the fear, the confusion, and the hurt. But more importantly, I also extended forgiveness.
Forgiveness is not forgetting. It doesn’t mean pretending things never happened. It means I am choosing not to let those moments define me anymore. It means I refuse to let anger or resentment be the last word in my story.
Writing these letters was as much for me as it was for them. I needed to speak the words, even if they never respond the way I hope. I needed to give myself permission to break free from the cycle of pain and to offer the same grace that has been given to me through Christ.
My wife has been the consistent shoulder I lean on during this healing. She has her own childhood traumas, and I know God has used each of our experiences to allow us to lean on one another. I am thankful that He brought her into my life and allowed us to become the best friends we are for each other.
And then, the very next day, on 19 Sept, at a Men’s Summit Event with Stonewater Church in Granbury, TX and I was baptized. I had once been baptized as a teen, but at the time I did not truly understand what living for Christ meant. This time it was different. It felt freeing. I finally grasped that baptism is not just a ritual but a declaration that my life belongs to Jesus.
Now I can move forward into the mission God has planned for my family and me, fully equipped to provide the leadership needed to guide us in walking through life with Christ.
Ephesians 4:32 says, “Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” That truth has carried me through this process. I’ve made peace with the fact that reconciliation may or may not come, but forgiveness is still possible, and it changes everything.
I don’t know what will come next. Maybe it will open a door for healing conversations, maybe it won’t. But I do know this: I feel lighter. I feel closer to God. And I feel hopeful.
If you are carrying childhood wounds, know that you don’t have to carry them forever. You don’t have to wait for someone else to apologize to begin your own healing. Sometimes the first step is simply telling the truth, and then choosing forgiveness.
For me, it started with a pen, paper, and the decision to no longer let the past own my future. It continued with baptism, and now it moves forward with a new strength and clarity that only comes from Christ.
With Grace and in Christ,
Calen
