There is a person. Perhaps you know exactly who they are the moment I mention it. Their name, or their face, or the memory of what they did, rose immediately into your mind. They hurt you. Perhaps deeply. Perhaps in a way that rewrote parts of your life in ways you are still reckoning with.
And if you are honest, if we are all honest; there is a part of you that does not want to let it go. There is a part of you that feels that holding on to the hurt, maintaining the record of the wrong, is somehow the right response. That releasing it would be a betrayal of your own pain. That forgiveness would mean what they did did not matter.
But forgiveness does not mean what they did did not matter. It means you are choosing not to let what they did determine where you go from here.
And it is one of the most courageous and Christlike things a human being can do.
Why Forgiveness Is the Hardest, and Most Necessary, Thing
Of all the disciplines of the Christian life, forgiveness may be the most demanding. It goes against every instinct of self-preservation. It feels unfair. It feels like the offender gets away with it. It feels like we are expected to pretend the wound was not real.
But none of those things are true. Let me be clear about what forgiveness is not:
Forgiveness is not condoning what happened. It is not pretending the offence was small. It is not suppressing your anger or denying your pain. It is not removing the need for accountability or justice. It is not minimising the seriousness of what was done to you.
Forgiveness is, in its most honest definition, the intentional and voluntary process by which you undergo a change of heart, choosing to release resentment and the desire for vengeance, not because the offender deserves it, but because God has commanded it and because you deserve to be free.
Here is the truth that changed everything for me: you are not hurting the person by holding onto unforgiveness. You are hurting yourself. The bitterness you harbour is not a burden placed on the one who wronged you; they have moved on. It is a chain around your own soul.
What God Says About Forgiveness
Jesus did not leave room for ambiguity on this subject. When Peter came to Him, probably thinking he was being generous, and asked whether forgiving someone seven times was sufficient, Jesus replied: “Not seven times, but seventy-seven times” (Matthew 18:22). He then told the parable of the unmerciful servant, whose staggering debt had been cancelled by a gracious king, but who then refused to forgive a fellow servant a comparatively trivial amount.
The conclusion of that parable is sobering: “This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother or sister from your heart” (Matthew 18:35).
And then there are these words, among the most familiar in all of Scripture: “If you do not forgive others their trespasses, your Heavenly Father will not forgive your trespasses” (Matthew 6:15). This is not negotiable. It is not optional. Forgiveness is not a spiritual elective; it is a core requirement of the Christ-following life.
But why? Why does God require this of us?
Because He has first required it of Himself. Everything we have in Christ, every blessing, every promise, every moment of grace, has come to us through the forgiveness of a God who had every right to condemn us and chose instead to reconcile us. We are not called to forgive out of our own moral strength. We are called to forgive out of the overflow of what we have already received.
Four Steps to Walk the Road of Forgiveness
Step 1: Recognise that no one is perfect, including you.
Ecclesiastes 7:20 says plainly: “There is no one on earth who is righteous, no one who does what is right and never sins.” When we are in the grip of resentment, we tend to dehumanise the person who hurt us, making them a monster rather than a broken human being navigating a broken world. Remembering their humanity does not excuse their actions. But it makes extending grace more possible.
Step 2: Relinquish your right to get even.
This is perhaps the most difficult step of all. Paul addresses it directly in Romans 12:19: “Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: ‘It is mine to avenge; I will repay,’ says the Lord.” The desire for justice is not wrong; it is built into us by a God who is just. But the execution of that justice belongs to Him, not to us. When you relinquish your right to get even, you are not surrendering justice. You are entrusting it to the One who dispenses it perfectly.
Step 3: Respond to evil with good.
This is the mark of genuine, complete forgiveness. It is one thing to stop rehearsing the offence. It is another to actively wish the offender well. Paul writes: “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Romans 12:21). This does not necessarily mean restoring the relationship. But it does mean that you are no longer a prisoner to what they did.
Step 4: Refocus on God’s plan for your life.
As long as you keep your eyes locked on the person who hurt you, that person controls your direction. They do not deserve that authority over your life. The extraordinary story of Joseph, sold into slavery by his own brothers, falsely imprisoned, forgotten, reaches its climax in Genesis 50:20 with these staggering words: “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good.” Joseph refocused on God’s plan. And what the enemy designed as a prison became a platform.
The Benefits Are Breathtaking
Forgiveness is not merely a spiritual obligation; it is a gift to yourself. Medically, the research is unambiguous: people who forgive experience lower blood pressure, reduced anxiety and depression, better sleep, and longer life expectancy. When you carry bitterness, your body carries the weight of it too.
Spiritually, a forgiving heart is an open heart, open to God’s presence, open to answered prayer, open to the full gifts He longs to pour into you. Unforgiveness is a blockage in the pipeline of divine blessing. Remove it, and watch what flows.
Let Go, and Let God
There is a phrase that carries more healing potential than most sermons I have heard: Let go and let God.
In letting go of the offence, you are not minimising it. You are releasing it into hands far more capable than yours. You are saying to God: I cannot carry this anymore. I trust You with it. I trust You with them. And I trust You with me.
Is there a name that came to mind when you began reading this? Someone whose face has been a fixture of your inner life, not because of love, but because of hurt?
I want to invite you to make a decision today. Not because it will be easy. Not because the feelings will vanish immediately. But because freedom is on the other side of it.
Let go. And let God.
— Ezekiel Kevin Annan
