Chapter 14Forgiveness

Forgiveness We Have Yet to Extend

We have considered messages we never delivered and love we meant to share. But what about forgiveness we have yet to extend?

An old saying compares holding on to resentment to drinking poison and waiting for the person who hurt us to suffer. The image is sharp because resentment can keep a wound open long after the offense.

Yet forgiveness is too important to reduce to a clever saying. Some wounds need time. Some relationships need firm boundaries. Forgiving someone does not call the harm good, cancel its consequences, or make that person trustworthy again.

So what does forgiveness ask of us? Let us bring that question honestly to Christ.

I Forgave Him Because I Loved Him

I began learning forgiveness when I was nine.

My father worked too much, drank too much, and sometimes became frightening to me, his adopted son. I was curious, mischievous, and, I am sure, occasionally annoying. But no child should hear a father say, “I regret adopting you, and I’m ashamed to call you my son.”

People say, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” I learned otherwise. If the pen is mightier than the sword, we should remember that both can cut deeply.

I wanted to hate Dad. I couldn’t.

When I was young, my older sister noticed how often I studied a black-and-white photograph of myself at age two. “Why do you keep looking at that picture?” she asked.

“Because it shows the happiest face I’ve ever seen on a young boy,” I told her.

She shook her head and walked away. I did not understand why until the subject came up again in my forties. Then she told me that Dad had beaten me when I was two. I would sob, then soon become playful and joyful again. She had prayed I would not remember it.

We hugged.

I am grateful for the loving heart and resilience God grew in me. That gratitude does not make what happened right. Nor does forgiveness mean I never needed to stand against harm.

When I was twelve, Dad punched my two-year-old brother in the chest and knocked the breath out of him. I confronted Dad with my fist raised. The beatings stopped after that day. I did not hate him, but I knew what he had done was wrong, and I could no longer stay silent.

Years later, my family asked me to deliver Dad’s eulogy. On the flight home, I carried his ashes in a box. I gave the box a little shake, as though to get his attention, and spoke from my heart:

“Dad, I hated the way you mistreated so many of us. But I forgive you because I love you.”

My wife sat beside me. We were both brought to tears.

I do not believe God made my father to be a monster. I believe my father made choices that hurt people he should have protected. Forgiving him never required me to call those choices good.

For me, forgiveness meant telling the truth, refusing vengeance, and letting love have the final word.

And He placed a promise in my heart—one I still carry and will hold to until my final breath. Everyone is forgiven in my book. To everyone whose life has touched mine, this is my promise:

“If I have loved you once, I will love you forever.”

To God be the glory. Amen.

Forgiveness is one of the most beautiful words in the Christian faith.

It is also one of the most misunderstood.

Sometimes people speak about forgiveness as though it means:

Forget what happened.

Pretend it did not hurt.

Trust immediately.

Reconcile automatically.

Remove every boundary.

Ignore consequences.

Move on quickly.

That is not mature forgiveness.

Forgiveness does not require us to rename evil as good.

It does not require us to deny the wound.

It does not require unsafe reconciliation.

It does not erase wisdom.

Justice still matters.

Consequences can still matter.

Boundaries can still be necessary.

Forgiveness is not denial.

It is release.

Forgiveness releases the right to revenge without surrendering the right to wisdom.

Forgiveness Is Not Reconciliation

Forgiveness can be offered by one person.

Reconciliation requires more than one.

Reconciliation requires truth.

Repentance.

Safety.

Change.

Mutual willingness.

Sometimes reconciliation is possible.

Sometimes it is not.

Sometimes distance remains necessary.

That does not mean forgiveness failed.

You can release vengeance to God without reopening a dangerous door.

You can forgive and still say:

This relationship cannot continue as it was.

Forgiveness Is Not Trust

Trust can be broken in a moment.

Rebuilding it may take time.

Forgiveness may be offered before trust is restored.

Those are different processes.

Forgiveness says:

I release my claim to personal vengeance.

Trust says:

I believe you are safe enough to rely on again.

Trust may need evidence.

Consistency.

Time.

Changed behavior.

Forgiveness is grace.

Trust is stewardship.

Forgiveness can be given freely.
Trust may need to be rebuilt faithfully.

Forgiveness Is Not Excusing Harm

To forgive is not to say:

It was fine.

It was nothing.

It did not matter.

Real forgiveness begins with truth.

This happened.

It hurt.

It mattered.

It was wrong.

And I refuse to let what happened become the permanent owner of my heart.

That is not weakness.

That is spiritual strength.

Justice and Forgiveness Can Coexist

Forgiveness does not require abandoning justice.

A crime may still need to be reported.

A boundary may still need to be enforced.

A consequence may still need to remain.

An apology may still be necessary.

Restitution may still matter.

Grace is not lawlessness.

Mercy does not erase accountability.

Forgiveness releases personal vengeance.

It does not require us to become careless with truth.

Mercy does not require the absence of accountability.

Why Forgiveness Is So Hard

Resentment can feel protective.

It tells us:

Do not forget.

Do not soften.

Do not release.

If you stop being angry, maybe what happened will stop mattering.

But anger is a poor archivist.

It does not merely preserve the memory.

It can preserve the wound.

Sometimes we keep replaying what happened because replaying it feels like control.

But repetition does not rewrite the past.

It only keeps renting space in the present.

Repeated Forgiveness

Some wounds do not disappear because we prayed once.

The memory returns.

The anger returns.

The grief returns.

And sometimes forgiveness must be renewed.

Not because the first prayer was false.

Because healing is often layered.

We may need to say again:

Lord, I released this before.

I release it again.

Repeated forgiveness is not failure.

Sometimes it is faithfulness.

Forgiveness can be a decision made once and a surrender practiced many times.

When the Other Person Never Apologizes

One of the hardest situations is forgiving someone who never says:

I was wrong.

Some deny.

Some minimize.

Some disappear.

Some die before reconciliation happens.

Some never understand what they did.

If forgiveness depended entirely on their apology, they would still control the door to your freedom.

Forgiveness allows you to place judgment where it belongs.

With God.

You do not need their permission to release vengeance.

Receiving Forgiveness

Forgiveness is not only something we give.

It is something we receive.

Some people find it easier to forgive others than to believe God truly forgives them.

They keep reopening what God has already forgiven.

They rehearse old guilt.

They punish themselves.

They call it humility.

But sometimes it is unbelief wearing humble clothing.

Grace means we do not earn forgiveness.

We receive it.

Christ does not invite us to build a permanent home inside condemnation.

Do not keep mailing back the forgiveness God has already delivered.

What About Forgiving Yourself?

We often hear the phrase:

Forgive yourself.

There is something understandable behind it.

We want freedom from shame.

But the deeper Christian answer is not self-absolution.

It is receiving God’s forgiveness and agreeing with His grace.

We confess.

We repent.

We make amends where possible.

We accept consequences where necessary.

And then we stop pretending our condemnation is stronger than Christ’s mercy.

The goal is not:

I declare myself innocent.

The goal is:

I accept the forgiveness God gives me in Christ.

Forgiveness and Prayer

Prayer gives forgiveness somewhere to begin.

Sometimes the first honest prayer is not:

Lord, I forgive them.

Sometimes it is:

Lord, I want to want to forgive them.

That is still movement.

We can pray:

Help me release vengeance.

Help me tell the truth.

Help me keep wise boundaries.

Help me stop rehearsing the wound.

Help me bless without pretending trust exists where it does not.

Help me leave judgment to You.

Prayer makes room for forgiveness to become possible before it becomes easy.

Sometimes forgiveness begins with:
“Lord, I am not ready—but I am willing to let You begin.”

Forgiven People Forgive Differently

Christians do not forgive because harm is trivial.

We forgive because grace is not.

We know what it means to need mercy.

That changes the posture.

We do not become superior forgivers.

We become forgiven people learning how to extend what we ourselves received.

That is why forgiveness remains Christ-centered.

The cross keeps both truth and grace together.

Sin matters.

Mercy matters.

Justice matters.

Love matters.

We forgive because we ourselves have been forgiven.

Because You Show Me

Two women, at different times in my life, entrusted me with something painful. Each told me she had chosen to end a pregnancy. Both felt ashamed. Both asked me not to hold it against them or see them differently.

As if I would.

I hugged each of them. Their honesty had brought something tender into my care, and I was grateful they trusted me enough to share it. I wanted them to know they were loved—and that God’s love and forgiveness were not beyond their reach.

Later, Cowboy J.C. and I helped another friend move from one house to another. Afterward, she called me and spoke about one of those women, our mutual friend.

“Now I see why she loves you and trusts you so much. You don’t just forgive—you love to forgive!”

Her words surprised me. And humbled me.

These women had not wronged me personally. Their confessions were not mine to judge or absolve. But I could embrace them. I could listen. I could let the love God had shown me shape the love I showed them.

I recognized His love reaching through my ordinary arms.

What an honor.

One of those women wrote a personal note to herself. Then, with sincere gratitude, she told me:

“You have shown me the love of Christ.”

She initiated a warm hug.

It remains the greatest compliment I have ever received. Those words humbled me and filled me with gratitude to the One whose love she had recognized.

Praise the LORD!

That memory brings me to Billy, a dear brother in Christ with special needs who has since passed away.

Tuesday was our Bible study night. Our small group customarily explored the previous Sunday’s sermon more deeply, and that evening I was facilitating a discussion about love. Twenty or more of us sat in a circle.

Billy was so engaged that I paused and asked him:

“Billy, do I love you?”

Even now, remembering this brings tears to my eyes.

His eyes widened. I asked again.

“Billy, do I love you?”

He nodded emphatically. Yes!

“But Billy, I have never told you, ‘I love you.’ So why are you so certain that I do?”

His answer came immediately.

“Because you show me!”

When Billy passed away, his mother thanked me. He had told her about that night.

I had asked a question during Bible study. Billy gave me an answer I would carry for the rest of my life.

Reflection

Who in your life could say, “I know you love me because you show me”?

A Noble Prayer

Reflection

What Am I Still Carrying?

Ask:

Whose name still changes my emotional temperature?

What memory do I repeatedly replay?

What apology am I still waiting for?

What boundary do I need to establish?

What consequence do I need to stop feeling guilty about?

What vengeance am I still carrying privately?

What guilt have I confessed but refused to release?

Then ask:

What would forgiveness look like without pretending trust or reconciliation already exists?

Application

Your Turn

Write four headings:

The Wound

What happened?

The Truth

What was wrong about it?

The Boundary

What wisdom, distance, accountability, or consequence is still needed?

The Release

What do I need to hand back to God?

Then write:

“Lord, I release my right to revenge. Keep me truthful, wise, and free.”

If the wound involves abuse, danger, criminal behavior, or ongoing harm, do not use forgiveness as a substitute for safety, professional help, legal protection, or appropriate authorities.

A Noble Prayer

Forgiveness