“If you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them.” — Matthew 5:23–24
Fifth grade was a tough year for me.
I was a very skinny kid with a terrible haircut — one I gave myself, because apparently that seemed like a good idea. And when our class put on a play called “Slenderella” — yes, a spin-off of Cinderella, and yes, it was as politically incorrect as it sounds, but it was the 80s, what can I say — I thought being the skinniest kid made me a shoo-in for the lead.
I wanted that part so bad. Prince Charming was being played by Kendall Strutt, the cutest boy in the class. All of us girls loved him.
Instead of Slenderella, I was given the role of Fatty the step sister. And I had to wear a fat suit.
Fifth grade.
That was also the year I didn’t get invited to Laurie’s slumber party. I was devastated. But what really got me wasn’t being left out. It was what happened next. The girls came over while I was asleep and threw water balloons at my window. I remember the sound of the balloons hitting the glass. And then the laughter. All that laughter.
That Monday at school, two of the girls came up and begged me not to tell anyone. Not because they were sorry. Because their parents would be upset.
I carried that for a while. And then, the way kids do, I eventually let it go. It became one of those memories you file away — not forgotten, but not something you think about anymore.
The Call
Fast forward forty years.
It’s the middle of a workday. My phone rings. It’s Laurie.
Now, for me, the water balloons had been a long-forgotten event. In fact, if you’ve read my testimonial about opening up your heart, Laur was the one who organized my Sunshine Squad during cancer treatment. She had become one of my people. The girl who didn’t invite me to the slumber party became the woman who rallied an army around me when I needed it most.
But that’s not why she called.
She called to say, “I’m sorry about the water balloons.”
Her son Elliot was right about the same age we were that year. And looking at him, she couldn’t believe she had done that to someone. Forty years, and it had weighed on her heart that long.
Let that sink in. Forty years.
“Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.” — James 5:16
I remember being impressed she called. Not because the apology was overdue — I had genuinely moved past it. But because making that call could not have been easy. She picked up the phone and said the hard thing, four decades later, because it was still sitting on her heart.
The Other Call
Fast forward to another workday. Another phone call. This time it’s my friend Tammy.
Tammy was someone I looked up to — strong in her faith, committed to her family. Years earlier, I had asked her for a house cleaner recommendation. She gave me the name of a lovely woman and said she was excellent and only charged a reasonable rate.
But then she added something. A friend had recommended the cleaner to her, and she told me what that friend had told her: “You can use her, but never pay her more. Because then we’ll all have to pay more.”
I remember thinking at the time how strange that was. It didn’t sound like Tammy. It felt off brand — not Tammy-like at all.
Six years later, she called to tell me she was sorry she ever said it. The friend who had told her that wasn’t in her life anymore, and it had been on her heart to make it right. She hoped I hadn’t listened. She hadn’t listened to that herself and had paid more.
I thanked her. I told her we hadn’t, and that I knew at the time it didn’t seem like her.
That made her feel better. And then she asked something that stopped me.
“Have I called and said this before? I’ve thought about doing it so many times, but I can’t remember if I did.”
It had weighed on her so much that she wasn’t sure if she’d already apologized or just rehearsed it in her head over and over. Making that call took integrity.
No Expiration Date
Here’s what I want you to hear: there is no expiration date on asking for forgiveness.
Not forty years. Not six years. Not a lifetime.
“Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.” — Colossians 3:13
I think about the man on the cross next to Jesus. Talk about waiting until right before the expiration date. He had lived his entire life, made every choice, and in his final moments — his very last breaths — he turned and asked for grace. And Jesus didn’t say, “You should have called sooner.” He said, “Today you will be with me in paradise.”
“Jesus answered him, ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.’” — Luke 23:43
Today. Not “after you’ve earned it.” Not “once you’ve proven you mean it.” Today.
The Hard Part
Those two phone calls could not have been easy to make. Laurie had to revisit the version of herself she wasn’t proud of. Tammy had to admit she’d passed along advice that didn’t match who she was. Both of them had to pick up the phone, dial the number, and say the words out loud. You can read about the difficult call I made in The Story That Won’t Die.
But they made the calls. And I would bet everything they felt lighter afterward.
If there’s something sitting on your heart — something you said, something you did, something you didn’t do — the phone still works. The person is still here. The expiration date hasn’t passed.
It never does.
Make the call.
“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” — 1 John 1:9
Niki McDowell is a Stage 3B triple-negative breast cancer survivor, a wife, a mom, and a woman who does her homework. She writes from somewhere between faith and the fight.
My Prayer
God, if there is someone I need to forgive, give me the strength to do it today. Not because they earned it, but because carrying it is heavier than letting it go. Remind me that your grace had no expiration date, and neither should mine. In Jesus’ name, I pray.
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