I sat back for years crying my heart out not knowing the way to freedom is forgiveness. I never hated the person who murdered my son, It was something that was embedded in my heart, that was heavy, heavier than I could bare.
One day I sat in my car, to be specific the day my son was shot, was the day I forgave, the person who murdered my son.
It was one of the hardest things I had to do in my life, other than burying my son, my best friend.
I forgave a murderer.