To this day I can clearly recall how when the bomb went off I had the distinct sense that God was with me. I felt that the great promise of scripture had been kept: “Lo I am with you always, even to the end of the age” (Matt. 28:20).
Now whenever I tell my story, I am not bitter, and I don’t want revenge. But forgiveness? In reality, I haven’t forgiven anybody, because there’s still no one to forgive – I don’t know who made the bomb, who wrote my name on the envelope, who sent it. Sometimes I speculate about what it would be like to meet those responsible. Perhaps one day there will be a knock on the door, and a person will be standing there saying: “I am the one who sent you that letter bomb, will you forgive me?” How will I respond? I might say, “Excuse me, sir, do you still make letter bombs?” “No,” he might reply, “now I work at the local hospital. Will you forgive me?” Then I would answer, “Yes, I forgive you, and I would prefer that you spend the next fifty years working in the hospital instead of being locked up.”