Why did Jesus die so horribly? All have sinned, except Jesus. To God all mortals are worthy of the punishment for sin. Jesus is alive, and only He can forgive sin. Jesus is always faithful and just to forgive us of our sins when we ask Him for forgiveness, but we still need to know what we did wrong before asking. Without the awareness of sin, there is no forgiveness of sin. If a Christian cannot recite all Ten Commandments from memory, then how can a Christian live by God's grace in holiness, being ready for eternity? How can a Christian be ready for eternity without knowing repentance, forgiveness, and living by faith? How can one ask for the forgiveness of sin and repent of sin while ignorant/forgetful of sin? If a Christian does not know what sin is, then a Christian does not know why Jesus suffered and died.

I would like you to read my first story and listen to my past experience, despite all i went through in the hands of my step mum, i have forgiven her, i love her so much, i still buy gifts for her. who ever that has ever hurt you, forgive and live a happy life. Thank you

Between war, negative life circumstances, depression and my dreams which one will win? You will be an important person, an American soldier told me. Alone in the jungle, I am freezing, I am hungry, I am afraid. There is a lot of blood. Let me hide. There are dead bodies. What's going on? I do not know where I am. I am lost, I am afraid of Dracula. The Bush is moving, it might be a lion, not maybe a tiger or cheetah. Oh my God, I am too young to die. Anyway, I am not ready to die. Come on, dying at this age. I just totalized 11 years old one week ago. “I am screaming mom, dad, where are you? Like ten times”. My parents are not responding. I am hearing some noise, it is a roar. How did I get in a jungle? All these thoughts in my head, let me take a nap and maybe tomorrow will be a better day. I remembered Mama once said to me “jo never ever forget to pray before sleeping" in my prayer I thought God to bring back my parents and help me remember what happened? I found a tree where there was a little bit moon shadow far away from those dead bodies. I decided to force myself to sleep despite it was cold. In my dream, my mom and dad calling my name I am alone in the jungle. It was all dark. ''They found me and mom asked me why am I alone and crying?" "I told them I am lost, and I was looking for you". "'My dad told me don't cry any more, my son". "You are the son of a leader who will be a leader". "He said son remembered you have my blood." "I gave you everything u need". "Life is going to be difficult but if you are keeping working hard and praying". "One day you will be successful and make us proud". "Life took us away from you, but we are watching over you and just know we love you". After that, I saw a person with a bright shadow appearing and tell them the time is up. My mom and dad hugged me for the last time, and they disappeared. Directly I woke up in the jungle early in the morning, I thought about my dream, but I realised what happened yesterday was a bad dream. instead, it is a reality; I am a child turned a man. So, I decided to find a way out or find where people are. I started walking, walking without resting and I didn't eat. I kept walking until I saw a river. I was thirsty so I decided to drink water from the river, and it tastes like salt, but I had no choice. Then I had a pen and a small paper in my pocket, but I don't know where it was from. the pen I had in my pocket just felt down in the river. It started flowing and I decided to follow the pen as I followed the pen, I saw a girl running so I decided to follow her. By following her, I saw there was a kind of armed soldiers I never saw before after her, so I decided to run smartly behind them to discover what is going on? Then I saw one of the soldiers getting out of the car and took her by force, so I was behind the remaining soldiers. I saw the soldier who was before her, trying to take off her clothes so she is shouting leave me alone and I thought they want to rape her.

My wife and I had had a great night at the Rad Madison Hotel. Head office announced my new role as regional manager and chief of operations across Sub-Saharan Africa and some part of the Middle East.\n\nRegina was beaming, with a permanent smile stuck to her face. I'd never seen her that happy.\n\nThe Cadillac Escalade crawled into the driveway of our Gregorian type home; sturdy columns, vintage carvings by the prominent Italian wood sculptor and friend El Giovanna.\n\nI stepped out and helped Regina onto the Porch, the light came on but there was no Dare. My Valet and Chef also doubled as the family Nanny and would always watch the kids while we went on outings.\n\nThe day we met, it was at an African day function, he was there cooking up some grilled meat popularly called \\"Suya.\\" We laughed and talked about our homes; how I missed Kumasi and he Lagos. We shared an uncommon bond which seemed to be a result of our West-African heritage.\n\n\\"Why's the house so quiet?\\" Regina asked me. I turned to shush her.\n\nThe eerie silence told me there was something out of place.\n\nEven Kgomotso, our live-in gardener was not at the gate as usual of him. We had made sure our home was colored with African nationals. John, our first son could speak a little of the Zulu he had learned from Kgomotso. Our daughter had taken a liking to Dare who told some of the most beautiful Ijapa and Yanibo stories.\n\nRemembering where we had been from, I always felt like my home was too perfect to remain forever.\n\nI could feel my heart starting to race as I pushed open the front door.\n\nThe lights were out. We stepped into the living room and I flicked on the light. Regina let out a scream.\n\nThe seats and shattered center table were covered in blood. Regina had started to run up the stairs and I followed suit, grabbing a baseball bat along the way.\n\nWe rushed into the children's room, Regina ran straight at the pile of bodies.\n\nFirst, she pulled off Kgomotso whose back was riddled with knife cuts, his body rolled off the pile.\n\nMy hands fumbled through my jacket, grabbing my phone, I dialed 911.\n\n\\"Help me pull his leg!\\" Regina screamed at me, pointing at Dare whose eyes stared into space unblinking.\n\nI could see the tiny arms of my daughter, so I grabbed Regina and held her as she kicked and thrashed about.\n\n\\"My babies, My babies!\\" she wailed on and on in my arms.\n\nThen we heard the sound that shut her up \\"Mommy...\\" John called out almost inaudibly.\n\nWe both rushed to pull Dare's body off. John had a small cut above his eyebrow, a scar that would forever remind us of that day. Kisi cried for months anytime she saw or heard someone speak Yoruba.\n\nThe reports from the New York Police Department (NYPD) led to the conclusion that the homicide attack was politically motivated, there was a letter. Someone had wanted me dead after the deal for DRC oil exploration had pissed off the government.\n\nThey thought I was the key to making sure insurgents were not given the fat payoff they had always had in the region.\n\nThe attacker had kicked open the door smack into John's face. The boy had quickly regained composure and run up the stairs to grab his sister.\n\nDare and Kgomotso had paid the ultimate price to defend our babies. They wouldn't budge until the attacker fled the house.\n\nThey must have made themselves into a body shield covering John and Kisi with their battered bodies.\n\n***\n\nThis fictional story is the result of my thoughts today about Ghana, South Africa, and Nigeria. We have been a major part of African liberation but yet are still full of hate for each other.\n\nNigerians must forgive South Africans in advance for what they might or will do to us. This is the only way to break the cycle of hate in Africa. The same must apply to South Africa and Ghana and every African country.\n\nOur fathers bled for the development of other countries of which today most of us have no stake in. We will always be presented with a choice, to bleed for Africa or to make others bleed.\n\nNo African has had it easy. Whether rich, poor or privileged. We all are products of centuries of bloodshed, slavery, colonialism, and struggle. It's our duty to honour their memories by defending Africa with our lives. This might cost us our pride, our feelings of entitlement, our memories of killings across tribes and countries. It will cost us a lot but we must be willing to forgive ourselves in advance for the evil planted in our hearts by decades of oppression and separatist politics.

It was love at first sight! I knew it immediately when Mac first said hello to me in that mall store, his compelling brown eyes searing a hole right into my heart. In town, visiting family, he was just killing time. Typically, he wasn't the “shopping kind” but, that evening, he was doing a whole lot of shopping! Mac asked me out for drinks. I took him to my favorite hangout where we ate, danced and talked the night away. It was late and having ridden with me, I offered my couch and he accepted. Before turning in, we shared a very passionate kiss. We both ached for more but, with my daughter in the other room, he respectfully slept on the couch. Sleep was elusive as I lay there remembering the evening….and that kiss! I had learned so much about this man in just a few short hours and my head was spinning with the anticipation of learning everything about him that I could. The following morning, I awoke to a fully prepared breakfast, a pleasure that occurred regularly during our time together. We spoke for hours over that following week. I invited him for the weekend, which he readily agreed to, both of us giddy with anticipation. Hanging up, I told my sister, “Mac's coming this weekend and he's going to ask me to marry him.” He hadn't said so, but I just knew in my soul and with every fiber of my being that it was going to happen. Naturally, she thought we were both crazy. And, we were, of course - out of our minds and head over heels in love. This was the beginning of numerous occasions where we inexplicably knew what the other was thinking or going to say next. We couldn't keep secrets from each other - the knowing was so strong. It was the most incredible feeling that engulfed my heart, soul and entire being. Nothing that I had experienced before could compare to this. That weekend was bliss. With my daughter gone, Mac arrived bearing flowers, chocolates and a couple bottles of wine. We grilled out and ate by candlelight. The conversation was engaging, rhythmic and comfortable, like we'd known each other forever. The evening culminated into the most awesome romantic encounter imaginable. He proposed and I accepted. Mac and I were married just six short months later. He transferred jobs and moved in with me. Eventually, his two sons came to live with us. Our blended family had its ups and downs but we managed to achieve a comfortable, happy family lifestyle. Mac was always a perfect gentleman, holding doors open, pulling out chairs. The daily attention he doted on me, the kisses, stroking my hair, soft touches when he was near - all were exhilarating. I felt like a goddess on a pedestal and we devoted ourselves completely to each other's happiness. But life was not as it seemed outside my shrouded veil of bliss. Besides love, a marriage is about give and take, balance and most importantly, trust. Naturally, in every relationship, there are going to be rough patches. And during these rough patches, Mac would conveniently have to work late or stay away – needing time for himself. The obvious signs were there but I loved him so much that I chose not to believe. I became blinded by my own fear and continued to ignore what was blatantly obvious. Mac was having an affair. Still, I chose to look the other way. If I didn't acknowledge what was going on, then maybe, somehow, it didn't exist in reality. But when I caught them in a compromising position, the devastation crumbled my world and led to my divorce. I had been so desperate for happiness, for my happily ever after that I failed to acknowledge my inner sixth sense, that gut feeling that tells you that something is seriously wrong. I felt like a failure for not heeding my own instincts. Fearfully, I built a protective wall to never again experience that horrible pain. Mac became the ruler by which I measured other men. He lingered in my head, making me judge all others. For years, I allowed Mac's mistake to consume and compromise my life. I eventually sought help through individual counseling and with groups of others who shared similar insecurities as myself. I learned about the true meaning of forgiveness and letting go. I had to forgive myself first before I could forgive him. It didn't seem right but once the realization set in, I saw the truth in it. Forgiving myself was easy but I struggled with forgiving Mac. Visions of the past keep surging to the forefront of my mind. I soon realized that I was unable to control the past events that had happened to me, but I was in the position to control of how they affected my future. With renewed strength and courage, I forgave Mac. I've come a long way since then - a couple of relationships and a second marriage. You'd think I'd get the hang of it by now, right? But, it's all good, a learning process if you will. My marriage to Joe is built on trust and has survived the years but, more importantly – it has survived Mac. Forgiveness was the best gift that I have given to myself.