Witnessing Miracles

I’ve never been in the same room as a murder before.

Two nights ago I had a nightmare that the genocide was happening again here and I had to hide my host siblings under the bed, holding my breath as me and my sister watched the footsteps of killers search for us.

I woke up and for a second felt the relief begin to rush in as it usually does when you realize your nightmare isn’t real. But then the relief stopped and my heart felt panic again because I realize that not only did this nightmare actually happen, but it happened for 100 long, horrifying days…to people I know and love.

That morning I went to my first reconciliation and trauma-healing workshop in the village. The workshop is for both perpetrators and survivors of the genocide. I didn’t see perpetrator and survivor as such, I saw the effects of the genocide; a machete scar on a man’s forehead, down cast eyes, over labored bodies from living in poverty. 

The next day, my coworker explained to the participants how in order to stop the cycle of bitterness and hate; we can do good things for others (basically overcome evil with love). A very old woman sitting next to my coworker began to speak.

She addressed the man sitting across from her, identifying him as the man who killed her father in the genocide (and we think maybe her husband as well). She told him, “You have never, ever asked me for forgiveness. But now, I want to declare you are forgiven as a gift to you. Yesterday, I was uncomfortable seeing you were here with me. But then I noticed in your face that you were starting to change. And this morning we talked about how our first identity is in God, not in ethnicity. So I give you forgiveness.”

It was amazing. I actually had no idea what was going on at the time, but I knew something big was happening. My coworker translated for me later. The man, her offender, is planning to bring her a gardening hoe tomorrow as a surprise gift and all the participants are eager to see her reaction.

I looked at this man knowing what he did 20 years ago. I see the other men and only imagine what they did as well. But I can’t see them as murders, because they aren’t anymore. That’s how amazing reconciliation is. It declares murders are no longer criminals anymore; they are human beings.

I’ve never been in a room of murders before. Jesus died on the cross for all sin and all pain without his offenders ever asking forgiveness. This woman understood that, and experiencing God’s reconciliation for herself, she overcame evil with good.  Thanks to this woman, I don’t ever have to say I shook the hand of a murder. I shook the hand of a friend.