Before It’s Too Late: How God Used My Failure to Teach Me Reconciliation and Forgiveness

meetgodattheedgeof
Oct 29, 2025
3 min read

A realistic animated illustration of a man standing in a dimly lit room, holding a phone with grief on his face. Warm light from a window forms a subtle cross behind him, while a faint glowing silhouette of another man symbolizes memory and forgiveness. An open Bible and family photos rest on a table, representing reconciliation and hope through Christ. — The moment after the call — when regret meets grace. Don’t wait to make peace; God’s forgiveness is already reaching for you.

Today’s testimony is brought to you by our Heavenly Father.

I grew up in a big family with two sisters and two brothers. It was a good family—loud, loving, and full of those occasional fights that always ended in laughter. The oldest was my brother Jason, and I was the middle child. For some reason, Jason and I looked so much alike that people at church often mixed us up. They’d call me Jason and him Kevin. After a while, it didn’t even bother us—we just laughed it off, even though he was almost ten years older than me. Despite the age gap, we were close.

When I was about 14 or 15, Jason had just come home from the Army. He was tougher now, rough around the edges, and his focus was on working out, cars, and women. My brother was huge, strong, and carried a short temper. He was always ready for a fight, and to be honest, that side of him scared me. I wasn’t a confrontational person, and his intensity was something I couldn’t understand then.

Fast forward to about six years ago. Jason was living in Texas, married, and still the same mix of strong and stubborn. I was married too, with two kids of my own. My kids loved their Uncle Jas—he was great with them, full of energy and jokes. But underneath the laughter, there was a heaviness. His relationship with my mom and other siblings was strained. Years of poor choices, pain, and pride had built a wall between him and the rest of the family.

Jason lived a lifestyle that was breaking him down. The bad decisions and emotional weight drove him toward guilt and self-destruction. I tried many times to reach him, to tell him to slow down, to change. He wanted to, but it was like the enemy had a firm grip on his soul. Darkness had become the only thing familiar to him, and it broke my heart to watch.

Then one night, everything changed.

I got a call from his wife. Jason was in the hospital with severe leg pain that wouldn’t let up. The scans showed a cyst in his hip pocket. “No big deal,” I thought. “They’ll drain it, and he’ll be fine.” His wife was scared, but I reassured her everything would be okay. We hung up, and I went on about my night—never stopping to pray.

That’s the part that still stings.

A few hours later, my phone rang again. This time, she was crying so hard I couldn’t make out her words. Fear rushed over me, but then she said he was being flown to another hospital. I clung to hope, convincing myself that meant he’d be okay. Just then, my sister called.

I switched lines. “Hey, Emmy.”

Her voice broke. “Kev... he’s gone. Jason died.”

I dropped to my knees. I have never felt a weight like that in my life. I was crushed. Every missed conversation, every time I didn’t reach out, every prayer I didn’t pray came rushing back to haunt me. I knew I had failed. I threw my phone across the room and cried out to God, begging Him for strength. The guilt was unbearable.

But God met me there—in the brokenness, in the regret, in the grief. He didn’t scold me. He comforted me. And slowly, He began teaching me what Reconciliation and Forgiveness really mean.

I learned that reconciliation isn’t just about fixing what’s broken between people—it’s about surrendering what’s broken inside us to God. Forgiveness starts when we stop carrying the guilt that Jesus already died to remove. I can’t go back and change my choices, but I can rest in knowing God’s grace is bigger than my failure.

Every day since that night, I’ve had to lean on the Lord for strength—to resist the enemy’s whispers of guilt and shame. I’ve learned to forgive myself and trust that in those final moments, maybe my brother made peace with God. I pray he did. I have to believe that God’s mercy reaches farther than our mistakes.

So today, my brothers and sisters, don’t wait. If you need to reconcile with someone—do it. If there’s forgiveness to be given—offer it. If there’s someone you love who needs to hear about Jesus—tell them. Don’t assume there’s always more time.

Because one day, there won’t be.

And when that day comes, you’ll want to know that you chose Reconciliation and Forgiveness over pride, fear, or regret.

Reflection:

Is there someone God is putting on your heart right now—someone you need to call, forgive, or pray for? Don’t put it off. Healing begins when we act in obedience, not delay.