Six Part Series from the author of As We Forgive

Earlier, I reviewed the phenomenal book As We Forgive by Catherine Claire Larson. You can read my review here.

I contacted Catherine directly and asked if she'd be willing to answer some questions regarding forgiveness and reconciliation. She kindly agreed. Stay tuned for the next five Mondays where Catherine shares from her heart.

What compelled you to write this book?

I strongly felt this was a story that needed to be told. When I heard about murderers and survivors living in relative peace in the same community just fifteen years after one of the worst atrocities of the past century, I wanted to understand better what was going on in the community that was enabling this to happen. Working with Prison Fellowship which is active in Rwanda, I’d heard stories about prisoners repenting and sincerely seeking to show their remorse and victims who were coming to grasp onto forgiveness. I wanted to find out more for myself. When my friend, Laura Waters Hinson, went to film her documentary of the same name in 2006, I heard again first-hand of these miraculous stories unfolding. Inspired by her film, and the work of Prison Fellowship Rwanda, I traveled in 2007 to follow up with the people interviewed in her documentary along with several others.

Some readers and all posters at My Family Secrets wrestle with pain from the past and struggle to be set free. How has writing As We Forgive helped you on your own forgiveness and freedom journey?

You know, wherever evil has occurred there is a shattering of peace—or shalom. I think writing this book showed me that even though you can come to the place of being able to extend the gift of forgiveness, sometimes there’s still a lot of brokenness that needs healing. In my life, before I’d gone to Rwanda, I had been able to forgive one of the deepest wounds against me, but it didn’t mean that there wasn’t still a lot of brokenness inside of me. Writing this book, taught me something about the place for lament when peace has been shattered, about the righteous anger we feel when something beautiful is lost, and about the One who not only carried our sins, but also every one of our sorrows to the cross (Isaiah 53:4). Being able to let him carry the weight of not just my sin, but my sorrow was a pivotal point in my healing process.

Of all the stories of forgiveness and reconciliation in the book, which one touched you the most? Can you briefly describe the scenario?

Devota’s story was really profoundly healing for me personally. Very briefly, here’s a woman who lost both of her children, was mutilated by machetes, and had the home she was lying completely helpless in set on fire. She was miraculously spared, but after all she had been through she wanted to die. She lashed out and asked God why he didn’t let her die too. Into this deep grief, she began to learn what I’ve shared above—about the One who carries not just our sins, but our sorrows. Internally, she had been asking the question, “Who can carry such a deep pain and sadness?” That cry of lament was answered when she read Isaiah 53:4 and understood she didn’t carry the pain of her experience alone, and that even that pain had been nailed to the cross. Evil doesn’t have the final say. That hope gave her the power to begin to live and love again. Meeting Devota was a little like meeting someone who had been resurrected from the dead—that’s how profound her renewal seemed to me.

When you gathered stories for this book, did you run into people still doubled-over with bitterness? How did they contrast to the people who found freedom?

Yes, there are many in Rwanda who have found no peace from their past, and from the horrors they have seen or perpetrated. I remember vividly the hollow eyes of one of our guides in one of the genocide memorial. Unlike Devota who seemed like a resurrected person, this guide seemed like the walking dead. Indeed she was showing us the place where all of her loved ones had been slaughtered. She was someone who didn’t necessarily seem seething with rage, so much as numb, dead, or vacant.

One of the people, who is in Hinson’s documentary, and also in the book, is Chantale. When she appears in the film, she seems just eaten through by bitterness. Her eyes are red, her cheeks are sunken in, you can just tell rage is eating her alive. When Hinson filmed her, she had been unable to come to the place of forgiving the man who killed her father. When I went to see her a year later, I wasn’t sure what I would see. I had heard that Chantale had been able to extend the gift of forgiveness six months after the filming, but still I wasn’t sure what I would find. When I did finally see her, I didn’t recognize her. Her eyes were bright and clear, her face seemed full, and her smile came easily. Since seeing her, I’ve learned a lot more in my research about the very real physical effects of bitterness. And Chantale was a living picture of how forgiveness can actually having healing effects not just on soul but on body as well.

How, do you feel, this book will help survivors of past family traumas?

It is my prayer that this book will give them hope. The things the people of Rwanda have endured are unspeakable horrors. For those whose past traumas echo the brutality and betrayal of Rwanda’s genocide, I hope that seeing how God has not abandoned and even in some cases brought a measure of redemption into the lives of these people, will give readers courage to keep reaching for the light. I’ve also tried to offer some practical help in the book for those who need to begin the journey of forgiveness. In seven interludes between the stories, I explore themes relating to forgiveness and reconciliation. I think people will walk away from this book feeling a little less alone. They may discover a space for lament, a space for fumbling toward forgiveness, and hopefully a little more grace and healing growing inside their hearts.