{"id":1717,"date":"2026-06-25T12:30:11","date_gmt":"2026-06-25T19:30:11","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/maginecreativeservices.com\/shadesmagazine2023\/?p=1717"},"modified":"2026-06-25T13:14:02","modified_gmt":"2026-06-25T20:14:02","slug":"grace-forgiveness","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/maginecreativeservices.com\/shadesmagazine2023\/grace-forgiveness\/","title":{"rendered":"GRACE & FORGIVENESS"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

When forgiveness comes (unexpectedly) calling<\/h1>\n\n\n\n

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By Alexus Means Rhone (she\/her) | shades Contributor<\/strong><\/em> W<\/em><\/strong>riter<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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During my formative years, he was problematic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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In August 1995 \u2013 when I was in my mid ’20s \u2013 I reminded him of some of my most traumatic memories. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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He laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Then the gloves came off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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I cussed him out for two and one-half hours. Interestingly, he didn\u2019t hang up the phone. He sat there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once that call ended, he refused to have anything else to do with me. Suddenly, he became the victim.<\/p>\n\n\n

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\"\"
From left: Dean Means, Jr., Means, Sr. and
Alexus (aka \u201cAlexus Grace\u201d).<\/strong><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

I was confused. Men as victims in a patriarchal society? It was like claiming that Black people are racist. It didn\u2019t add up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Over the years, I tried to reconcile, but he literally shut all doors to reconnecting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Then he died.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Years later, one Sunday in June, I\u2019m reading \u201cRising Strong\u201d by Bren\u00e9 Brown. She referenced how unforgiveness is not about a lack of love, but about being hurt over how a story ended. Or something like that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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I remember reading it and thinking that finally I am hearing something about unforgiveness that doesn\u2019t sound religious, goofy and\/or impractical. Brown’s frame made sense to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Immediately, I thought of my dad, which was odd because I hadn\u2019t thought of him in years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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But suddenly, I realize that this was God\u2018s way of saying, \u201cIt\u2019s time to deal.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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So I closed the book and went for a walk. I cried as I recalled my dad\u2018s story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I have this thing where I forgive everyone for what they do in their ’20s. And that had to include my dad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Everything problematic that he did, the most traumatic parts of my childhood memories, all happened when he was in his ’20s. So I “wrote” him a new ending where he understood that his present choices had a future. In the rewrite, he cared about how his story ended.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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And then I prayed. I told him that all was well and that I forgave him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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As I was returning to my car, I passed a grocery store. People were streaming out of it holding balloons. I didn\u2019t know that it was a holiday.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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I slowed down my pace to read the writing on one of the balloons. It read, \u201cHappy Father\u2019s Day!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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I looked up at the sky, and said, \u201cReally?\u201d Then I laughed, confident and grateful that God is precise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Happy Father\u2019s Day, Pop! All is well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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