My dad had two sisters, Iona and Rowena Wright. Both sisters were deceased before I was born, so I never knew them. I did, however, hear enough to know that theirs was a very dysfunctional family. I’m told that at my grandfather’s funeral these three siblings were not speaking to each other. They sat on the front row of the funeral chapel in stony silence, never casting a glance at each other.

Iona never married and died childless. Rowena married and gave birth to one daughter, my cousin, Mildred. In my early years, I can remember Mildred visiting our family, and it was always a bit strained. She was a beautiful woman, and the family resemblance between her and my dad was easy to see. She always seemed a little loud and rough, which also resembled my dad.

As years went by, we grew further apart. Mildred stopped visiting. When seen in public, she would turn away to avoid speaking to us. Once, my brother called out to her, “Hi, Cousin!” She responded, “I don’t have any cousins or family!” We discussed it in our family, and no one seemed to know why this dysfunction had transferred to our generation.

One evening I visited a tent meeting being conducted by a close friend in Dayton, Ohio. When the choir stood to sing, there to my surprise was my cousin, Mildred! She was a baptized Seventh-day Adventist, and our family wasn’t even aware of her conversion! I knew that something must be done.

I sat down to write to her, and asked God for the words to reach my precious relative. I explained to her that none of us, including her, knew what the old family feud was about. It seemed to me that there was no earthly reason for us to be at odds. I pleaded that we are so close to the end of time that we should allow nothing to divide us and prevent our entering the Kingdom of Heaven as a united family. I closed my letter with an invitation to her to attend the upcoming Wright family reunion.

Well, prayer truly changes things. Not only did Mildred attend, but she brought along a huge roasting pan of delicious spaghetti that she had prepared for her newly reconciled cousins. I don’t eat spaghetti, but I ate lots of it that day.

Words of love and affirmation spilled from all our lips toward each other. We sang together, we prayed together, and we shared pictures of deceased relatives. It was a wonderful healing time. I know for sure that the Spirit inspired me to write that letter. I knew there was a good chance that I would be rebuffed, but how could I not take the opportunity to reach my own flesh and blood?

There was forgiveness all around, and it didn’t seem important that none of us were sure what we were forgiving. The only thing that mattered was that we had been made whole by the love of God.

Do you need to do this, my friend? If so, don’t put it off another minute.

Walter L. Wright is the Lake Union Conference president.