Wish you could take it back?

How often do you wish you could take back just one misdeed? Just one statement? It happens to all of us.

I could really identify with Evan this week. He's a guy in prison for life for a horrible crime. Here's what he wrote me.

I cried as I told my parents how ashamed I am of going to prison for a senseless crime I am quite guilty of committing. I destroyed so many beautiful people's lives, hurt so many people, and even after 34 years the pain, hurt or suffering has not subdued. Even at this late date the consequences have continued to affect so many. When I lay awake at night reflecting on my life, there is so much pain. I can recall the night I committed this senseless, horrendous crime...when I was leaving to go out my daughter kept sobbing as I tried to leave. The sad expression on my child's face has never left me, nor the face of the innocent victims.

What I have done so many years ago haunts me endlessly. So many letters of apology, so many prayers seeking forgiveness, yet this cloud of despair lingers. Those I love suffer. I cannot imagine what the victims have gone through, or may still suffer.

Now all I can do is keep working at and trying to be a much better person, contribute and make atonement to society for the wrongs I caused. Since accepting God in my life, these changes have taken place of their own accord.

Thank you for reaching out to assist me. Also for allowing me to share with you who I was, what I was, and who I now have become. I trust the Lord to do wonderful things in my life.


How I wish we could put Evan in a room with troubled teenagers today, and tell them to just listen to what this man says. How I would we could print his words and put them in the hands of every troubled youngster who is standing at a fork in the road, and considering the wrong route.

It's good for Evan to know that God is the only one who holds an eraser in his hand.

But as he points out, how much happier he would be if he had never written that chapter.

A lesson for all of us.

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