Father, I have sinned
against heaven and against you.
Anna, Fyodor Dostoyevski’s wife, knew he was near death and called the children in.
“[T]aking our hands in his,” wrote Dostoyevski’s daughter, Aimee, “he begged my mother to read the Parable of the Prodigal Son.” With faltering voice, she read the story from the tattered Testament that had been his constant comfort and companion.
Aimee recalled her father’s words: “My children, never forget what you have just heard. Have absolute faith in God and never despair of His pardon. I love you dearly, but my love is nothing compared with the love of God. Even if you should commit some dreadful crime, never despair of God. You are His children; humble yourselves before Him, implore His pardon, and He will rejoice over your repentance, as the father rejoiced over that of the Prodigal Son.”
Your Father doesn’t forgive reluctantly.
Grace is his native nature.