If there’s one thing most of us can agree on, it’s that forgiveness sounds lovely in theory and feels terribly awkward in practice. It’s like exercise: we all nod politely when someone recommends it, but when the time comes, we find about 93 reasons why today is not the day.
Forgiveness is hard because it asks us to let go of something we’d rather keep — our carefully polished grudges, our indignation that still feels fresh after all these years, our private sense that we were “in the right” and the other person deserves to squirm just a bit longer. To forgive is to set down that heavy backpack we’ve been lugging around — except we’ve grown so accustomed to the weight, we don’t quite know who we are without it.
Scripture does not soften the challenge. Jesus tells Peter that we are to forgive “seventy times seven” (Matthew 18:22), which is biblical shorthand for as many times as it takes. That’s not because God is trying to make us do spiritual push-ups until we collapse, but because forgiveness is the very air of the Kingdom. As Paul writes, “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you” (Ephesians 4:32). We forgive because we have been forgiven — not out of duty, but out of grace received and grace shared.
Of course, some injuries cut deep. Forgiveness does not mean excusing harm or pretending it never happened. It doesn’t mean skipping over justice. What it means is refusing to let bitterness be the final word. When we forgive, we release ourselves as much as the other person. We allow God to write a different ending than the one resentment keeps rehearsing.
I once heard forgiveness described this way: “To forgive is to set a prisoner free — and then discover the prisoner was you.” It’s awkward, yes. It feels unnatural, yes. But it is also one of the most profoundly Christ-shaped things we can do.
And sometimes forgiveness is small and daily — in the kitchen, when someone forgets to refill the ice cube trays again, or when socks are once more abandoned in the hallway like small white flags of surrender. Sometimes forgiveness is in the monumental, the wounds that scar generations. In both, the invitation is the same: to trust that God’s mercy is big enough to carry what we cannot.
Forgiveness feels hard because it is hard. But it is also the road to freedom, to healing, and to life lived in the wide embrace of God’s love.
Amen.
Prayer
Merciful God,
you know how tightly we hold our hurts,
and how heavy the weight of unforgiveness can be.
Teach us to trust your grace more than our grudges.
Help us to release what binds us,
to forgive as we have been forgiven,
and to discover the freedom of your mercy.
Strengthen us where wounds run deep,
give us wisdom where justice is needed,
and surround us with your healing love.
Through Jesus Christ, who bore the cross
that we might be set free.
Amen.