I sat still; frozen in shock and surprise. Unable to say anything, I watched Nadia run out of the room before I even had the chance. I felt elation start to spread inside me; the words my daughter had just said repeated itself in my mind.
I forgive you.
Three words; three so simple words...but she'd meant them. She really had. My face fell into my hands as soft sobs broke through me. Silent tears ran down my cheeks - tears of gratefulness, of thanks.
God had given me a life that I hadn't deserved, and I'd treated the people in it in such unforgivable ways. But He'd forgiven me through Nadia, through my own daughter. I had her back. And He loved me again.
Faith had never been much of an option for me. As a child, I'd been grown up to believe in God and to do my daily prayers. Those times, it just felt like something of a routine, something I had to do so that I wouldn't get in trouble with my parents.
But over the years of my life, I'd realized that God was more than just some 'guy' I read about during Bible Study lessons. I'd believed in Him...well until...until everything started to fall apart.
If He's really there, He should have guided me, He should have helped me. But He never had.
Doubt and suspicion clouded the love I had for Him, transforming it into a gnarled and twisted emotion of hatred towards God. I started to question His existence, to question Him directly.
But now...Nadia had forgiven me. And that's a miracle. And I knew it was His work.
For the first time in years, I thanked Him.