This is a story told by Colleen C. Harrison the author of He Did Deliver Me From Bondage. (affiliate link)
It is a dream Colleen had that help her to forgive and helped me as well. It can be found in chapter 8 of the book. I highly recommend the entire book. It was the book that the 12 Step program for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints was modeled after.
A PARABLE
One day I dreamed a dream and saw myself in a scene that was
almost like something out of Gone with the Wind. I was walking up
a long, tree-lined lane, and though I was ragged and wounded and
still using a crutch to steady myself, I was full of excitement. I had
just entered into the last stretch in what had been a long and perilous
journey home. Just over the next rise was “the green, green grass of
home” and my family waiting to greet me. Even there along the lane,
every tree was filled with yellow ribbons. And when the breeze
carried just right, and I had my good ear turned, I could hear the
music and smell the feast at the great party they were having.
Suddenly I noticed another figure hobbling along just ahead of
me. Whoever this poor soul was, I could tell he was in at least as bad
a shape as I was. But even with all his wounds, he had made it this
far too. My heart went out to him in fellowship, and quickening my
pace, I hurried to overtake him, calling out to him, “Brother, wait
Wait for me!”
He stopped and turned. My heart went chill as all feelings
drained from it. I recognized his face. He had been my enemy, the
very one who had inflicted the deepest wounds–wounds that had
made my journey so slow and painful-~-wounds that I still bore
unhealed. Not him! How could he be here too?
I halted my steps, unable to approach him any further, unwilling
to say anything. As he called out “Who’s there? I can’t see you” I
realized he was blind. Rather than answer his plaintive cry, I held my
breath. Soon he turned, dejected, and shuffled on his way.
I didn’t have far to follow him, for just ahead of us was a shining,
glorious gate. The boundary that it marked was as definite as if it
were guarding night from day. Even though the beauty of the
country through which the lane passed was exquisite, what lay
beyond the gate was beyond description, but not recognition. It was
Home. Upon seeing it, childhood memories flooded my mind. Every
path and byway was familiar to me. The longing to be there once
more became an overwhelming ache within me. It caused me to
totally forget my reluctance to approach my enemy, who was even
now standing at the gatehouse, speaking to the gatekeeper.
The gatekeeper had his back to me. Still I recognized Him imme-
diately as my Lord and Good Shepherd, He who had carried me
throughout much of my journey, ministering to my stubborn
wounds. Just as He had promised, He employed no servant here.
Still I could see only my enemy’s face. There was light shining either
from it or on it. I could not tell which. Suddenly I realized his eyes
were bright and clear, focused upon the face of the Gatekeeper. He
was no longer blind! I noted how straight he stood. I threw down my
crutch and rushed forward. Maybe I too could be made whole!
Before I could take more than a step or two, I became aware of the gatekeepers
words to my lifelong enemy. “There Is only one last
thing before you are ready to enter in, one last question I must ask”
My enemy! This person who had been responsible for my deepest
wounds? He was about to enter in?
The Gatekeeper continued, breaking through my shock,
“Are you a friend to every man?”
Taking his gaze from the Gatekeeper’s face, the man looked
steadily into my eyes, and I knew he was seeing me, really seeing me,
for the first time. Somewhere inside I trembled. I had known all
along that I would have to face the Lord to enter in, but my enemy?
His words pierced my soul. “I am willing to be,” he said quietly.
Healed and no longer blind, he loved me. Could I, still maimed and
crippled as I was, say the same? Could I answer this one last question
with an honest yes?
The Gatekeeper seemed to disappear from between us, though I
knew He was near. Nothing stood between my enemy and me. He
waited for my response with longing meekness in his eyes, unable to
enter in without my approbation. And just as surely, I knew I could
not enter in without him. My long-harbored resentment and bitter-
ness, or all that lay beyond this last barrier–which would it be?
Which would I choose? Why had I waited so long? How had I
thought I could avoid this moment?
My first step toward him was still halting, as if crippled, but with
each step my strength grew greater and greater. I could feel my
wounds healing as I reached for his hands and then his embrace.
And as the dream ended, I saw us wrapped in more than each
other’s acceptance and forgiveness. The Gatekeeper and still another
figure stood with us. With shining countenance, the Gatekeeper
turned to the other, and speaking my name in unison with that of my
former adversary, He said, “Father, these are my friends.” As I awoke
from the dream, the last impression I had was hearing the voice of
the Father, so long awaited, “Well done. You may all enter in.”
