What Redemption Looks Like: A Personal Reflection by Mark Edgington
- edgingtonteams
- Jul 2
- 2 min read
Updated: Jul 9
Redemption isn’t a moment — it’s a way of walking through the world.

I used to think redemption would come like a thunderclap. That one day I’d do something so right, so meaningful, that it would cancel out everything that came before it.
But that’s not how it works. Not for me, and not for most people trying to rebuild their lives after making life-altering mistakes.
Redemption looks more like small, quiet choices made over and over again. It’s not a headline or a handshake — it’s showing up when it would be easier to stay home. It’s telling the truth when a lie might save face. It’s the way you carry your past without letting it define your future.
. . .
A Mirror You Can’t Look Away From
There was a time in my life when I seriously hurt people. I made selfish decisions. I broke trust. I ruined lives. And then I sat in a prison cell with nothing but time, and the reality that I had no one to blame but myself.
That kind of clarity is a mirror you can’t look away from.
But redemption doesn’t begin when someone else forgives you.It begins the day you stop lying to yourself.
That’s the day the real work starts — the slow, uncomfortable process of becoming someone your future self won’t be ashamed of.
. . .
No One Owes You a Second Chance
When I got out, I thought I was ready to start over, but the world had a different plan.
Landlords didn’t want to rent to me.Employers didn’t want to hire me.People saw the label before they saw the man.
I had to learn the hard way that nobody owes you redemption. It’s not something you’re granted — it’s something you earn. Every day. And some days, it feels like pushing a boulder uphill.
But if you think about it, that boulder can become a foundation. Each honest choice, each small act of service, each time you speak the truth when it costs you something — those become the bricks in a life you can be proud of.
. . .
Owning the Past Without Being Owned By It
Redemption means taking full ownership of the past. Not minimizing it, not excusing it, but understanding it well enough to never repeat it.
It means asking hard questions:
Who was hurt by my actions?
How can I do better now?
Where can I serve?
That last one — service — has become a cornerstone for me.
Whether it’s giving blood, helping out at a fire station, or supporting an orphanage in Uganda, these acts don’t erase my past. They just help me live differently because of it.

You don’t get to choose how others remember you, but you do get to choose who you are now, and what you stand for from this moment on.
That’s what redemption looks like.
And I’m still learning how to live it.
—
Mark Edgington
This article also appears on https://medium.com/@edgington.teams
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