Up from the Valley

Gabe fingered the envelope, touching the sealed flap that secured the contents. He felt a connection, picturing his mom's fingers touching the very object he held in his hands. Part of him wanted so badly to shout his joy in receiving this gift of writing from his mom, but another part wept in despair, forced into torment by circumstances not of his doing. How he wished he could make sense of the last two years. Carefully opening the envelope, Gabe unfolded the letter and began to read.

... Years of suppressing what I have to say to you has taken its toll; and I can no longer hide behind the secrecy. I want you to know I have asked God to forgive me. Now, I beg for your forgiveness as well. This secret I have kept for way too long needs to be released from the hardness of the tomb. I cannot continue in the manner that I have, carrying such encumbrance. Remember Gabe: I will always love you. ... No matter what Mom

Tears made their way upon Gabe's cheeks. For the first time since reading his mom's letter did it dawn on him-the revelation God had sent him, loud and clear: forgiveness. That's what was giving his mother a taste of peace. Through forgiveness, a new breath of life was given where coldness and bitterness had held tight. This was the act that would send that balm to the wound; letting the healing begin. Now Gabe understood.