If you forgive others their sins, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.
Reflection
The instruction is simple, yet the execution can feel impossible. Forgiveness is often framed as a gift we give to others, but the truth is, it’s a profound release we grant ourselves. It’s also the gift God gives all of us. When we refuse to forgive, we strap on a heavy, self-imposed debt that weighs down our spirit and obscures our path toward peace. I learned this the hard way.
It started years ago, back in high school. My first serious boyfriend, let’s call him “Mark,” and I were inseparable. So were his friends, and mine—which included my childhood best friend “Sarah.” She was the person I confided in about everything, especially my insecurities about Mark. When I found out they had been secretly seeing each other for months, my world didn’t just crack. My heart felt shattered.
The betrayal felt unfixable and I felt like I’d never forgive or trust anyone again. It wasn’t just Mark’s actions; it was the look in Sarah’s eyes when she pretended to listen to my worries. It was the shame, the public humiliation, and the agonizing knowledge that my closest friend had actively participated in my deepest pain.
Now, years later, I am 23. I’m in a healthy relationship, and Mark and Sarah are long-gone from my life, but the memory of her actions remained a sharp thorn. I told myself I was justified in hating her. Every time an old photo surfaced or someone mentioned her name, that familiar knot of bitter resentment would tighten in my chest. I would pretend I didn’t know she existed. Ignoring our history felt like maintaining a sense of justice for the younger, hurt version of me. But in reality, it was just exhaustion and pain that I had let linger.
My unforgiveness was an anchor, keeping me tethered to the hurt of a fifteen-year-old girl, preventing the 23-year-old me from experiencing full peace or trust. This is where the wisdom of Matthew 6:14 finally pierced through the fog of my anger. The scripture connects our ability to receive grace from God directly to our willingness to extend it to others. When I clung to Sarah’s past actions, I wasn’t punishing her; I was punishing myself by tethering my peace to her actions.
Forgiveness doesn’t mean condoning the wrong or pretending the hurt didn’t happen. It means acknowledging the wound she created, and then, by an act of my own will, deciding to heal it by letting it go. It is a choice to be perpetually angry, and that choice keeps us from seeing the good it others. Sarah is only human. I have made mistakes just like her. I choose to forgive her and wish her well in life.
by Ali Clark
For Pondering and Prayer
It’s the moment you finally set down the heavy weight that you realize you can breathe again.
Prayer: Show me how to set down this heavy resentment and step into the boundless freedom of grace. Help me to forgive, because I am also a sinner. Please help me let go of actions that hurt me in the past and remind me I deserve peace. Amen.
