A Reflection on Forgiveness

by Lori Wilson

I've been thinking a lot about forgiveness. Jesus' teachings on forgiveness are central to His message and ministry. He not only commanded His followers to forgive but modeled it personally, even forgiving those who crucified Him.

My understanding of forgiveness is that it is a choice, not a warm, fuzzy feeling. When I was younger, I used to wait for my heart to soften before I could actually say, "I forgive you." As an adult, I say "I forgive you," and for some things that have hurt me deeply, I have to get up each morning and say it again. If I don't, it feels like I am wearing a weighted blanket around with me.

When I look at Jesus on the cross saying, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing" (Luke 23:34), while he was dying of suffocation, I see that He chose forgiveness in His pain. I can't imagine He was feeling warm and fuzzy toward those who killed Him. Yet He chose forgiveness anyway.

Not forgiving hurts me, slows me down, and weighs me down. And while I may need to choose forgiveness each day, over time, more days go by before I have to make the choice again. The practice becomes a path toward freedom.

Forgiving also doesn't mean leaving myself open to being hurt in the same way again. I can forgive and still protect myself from the same treatment. Jesus teaches us to "be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves" (Matthew 10:16). Forgiveness and wisdom can walk together.

In the Lord's Prayer, Jesus teaches us to pray, "Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors" (Matthew 6:12). Later He emphasizes, "For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive yours" (Matthew 6:14-15). This isn't about earning God's forgiveness through our own efforts, but rather about becoming the kind of people who can receive forgiveness. When we hold onto unforgiveness, we close our hands to the grace that wants to flow both to us and through us.

When Peter asked Jesus how many times he should forgive someone who sins against him—suggesting seven times as a generous offer—Jesus responded, "I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times" (Matthew 18:21-22). Jesus is telling us that forgiveness isn't about keeping score. It's about embodying God's limitless mercy.

I am aware that there are areas of my life where I am still invited to practice forgiveness. It takes me time to reflect and find out where I am holding on to something that needs to be forgiven. It's part of the inner work that we are all called to. The invitation to forgive is always there, waiting for us to accept it.

Reflection Questions

• What might be holding you captive that you could choose to forgive?

• What would it feel like for you to forgive and be free of the weight of the hurt?

• Is there someone you've been waiting to "feel like" forgiving before you actually extend forgiveness? What if you made the choice today, even without the feeling?

• Where are you confusing forgiveness with allowing continued harm? How might you both forgive and protect yourself?

• What unforgiveness are you carrying that you haven't yet named or acknowledged?

Prayer

Merciful God,

You know the places in my heart where forgiveness feels impossible. You know the hurts I carry, the anger I've nursed, the debts I keep counting. You see where I've been holding on when You've been inviting me to let go.

Give me the courage to choose forgiveness, even when I don't feel it. Help me make the choice again tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, until the weight begins to lift and freedom begins to grow.

Teach me the difference between forgiving and being foolish. Show me how to extend mercy while also protecting the heart You've entrusted to me.

Forgive me for the ways I've withheld forgiveness, and for the ways I've used my pain as a shield against Your grace. Make me a person who can both receive and extend Your limitless mercy.

In the places where I don't even know I'm holding on, open my eyes. In the places where I'm afraid to let go, hold me steady. In the places where I've given up on freedom, remind me that with You, all things are possible.

Through Christ, who forgave even from the cross.

Amen.