Forgiveness Is Hard, But Necessary

When we do life among people, it is not a matter of if, but when the time will come that we will need to forgive someone. Human relationships are rarely as simple as we would like them to be. We are all still healing from our own wounds while trying to love others, and others are doing the same with us. At some point, someone will hurt us—sometimes with intention, sometimes not—and when that happens, we are called to forgive (Matthew 18:21–22).

I know...

It’s hard.

Really hard.

Forgiveness often feels like the last thing we want to do. But when we hold on to unforgiveness, something in our own hearts becomes poisoned and embittered.

Science even confirms what Scripture has been saying all along: unforgiveness has been shown to increase stress, anxiety, depression, and even high blood pressure, while forgiveness is linked to lower stress, improved sleep, stronger immune system, and better mental health overall (Journal of Behavioral Medicine; Harvard Medical School).

Forgiveness is not only obedience to God—it’s healing for our souls and bodies.

I think of Michal, the first wife of King David. Scripture says she loved David (1 Samuel 18:20), and even helped him escape when her father Saul tried to kill him (1 Samuel 19:11–12). But her life was layered with grief and confusion—torn between her father and her husband, watching Saul lose his mind while chasing David, being given away to another man while David was on the run, and then being forced back to David later, while her second husband wept after her (2 Samuel 3:13–16). I can’t imagine the heartbreak she endured. Did she still love David after all of that? Or did her closeness to him slowly expose his humanness, planting bitterness in her heart?

After a time, when David danced before the Lord as the ark of the covenant entered Jerusalem, Michal looked out the window and “despised him in her heart” (2 Samuel 6:16). She mocked him for his worship, and David rebuked her. The Bible closes her story with these words: “And Michal the daughter of Saul had no child to the day of her death” (2 Samuel 6:23). We don’t know if David withheld himself from her, or if the Lord closed her womb, but I can’t help but wonder if her story could have been different had forgiveness found space in her heart.

Absalom, one of David’s sons, offers another sobering picture. When his sister Tamar was raped by their half-brother Amnon, Scripture says David was furious, but he did nothing (2 Samuel 13:21). Absalom’s anger grew unchecked: “Absalom hated Amnon, because he had violated his sister Tamar” (2 Samuel 13:22). Two years later, Absalom murdered Amnon in revenge (2 Samuel 13:28–29). But bitterness never stops where it begins. His unforgiveness grew into hatred toward his father, leading him to rebel against David (2 Samuel 15). Absalom’s story ended tragically when his hair was caught in a tree during battle and he was killed (2 Samuel 18:9–15). David wept bitterly: “O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you” (2 Samuel 18:33). No one won in this story. No one, except the enemy.

My heart aches for Michal and Absalom (and ofcourse, for Tamar too). My first instinct is to hug them tightly and weep with them. To listen deeply and walk with them as they processed the weight of their pain—before bitterness took root. How often do we carry our own hurts alone? How often does our unprocessed pain quietly grow into unforgiveness that eventually robs us of the life the Lord desires for us? What they went through was not okay, but did it have to escalate and end the way that it did?

This is why Jesus speaks of forgiveness as a command, not a suggestion. He knows the cost of unforgiveness, and He knows the freedom forgiveness brings. He Himself was betrayed, mocked, beaten, and crucified. Judas handed Him over with a kiss. His closest friends deserted Him. I can't even imagine the level of heartbreak. And yet, even as He hung on the cross, Jesus prayed: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34).

Forgiving is how we trust the Lord with our pain, and with our story. It’s how we take our lives back from destruction. It’s how we remove the poison dart, and allow life to begin to flow again. None of it is easy, but neither is walking with a bitter and deeply wounded heart.

So how do we walk in forgiveness? It’s a process. One that I myself walk through often, if not daily.

• First, we acknowledge the hurt. Forgiveness is not pretending something didn’t matter—it’s naming it honestly before God. Pour it all out before Him. Cry it out, scream it out, write it out. The Lord can handle every part of you. He will not leave you nor forsake you (Hebrews 13:5). Trust that He grieves with you in your pain, and your story is not over. (Psalm 56:8)

• Second, we refuse to give the enemy a foothold. In battle, a foothold is a secure position gained in enemy territory that allows an army to launch further attacks. When we withhold forgiveness, our wound festers. Bitterness, anger, and shame grow like weeds that choke out life until we hardly recognize ourselves. But when we forgive—in words, in prayer, and in heart—we deny the enemy access (Ephesians 4:27). Forgiveness does not minimize your pain; it magnifies God’s power.

• Third, we release judgment to God. We trust His justice: “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord”(Romans 12:19). Only God sees the full picture. Releasing judgment frees us from carrying a burden too heavy for us to bear.

Forgiveness is rarely a one-time act. Often, we must surrender the same wound to God again and again until it no longer holds us captive. Each time, bitterness weakens, and freedom strengthens.

I don’t say ANY of this lightly. Whatever happened to you hurt. It cut deeply. God does not ignore your pain. Forgiveness does not mean excusing what happened, or reconciling with someone who is unsafe. It means choosing freedom for your own heart. It means refusing to let bitterness take root and rob you of the abundant life Jesus promises (John 10:10).

I want to encourage you today: the way ahead of you is more powerful and impactful than you can even imagine. I don’t know what you’ve gone through. And you have every single right to feel the way you do. But God. Please do not allow what has happened to you to be your end-all-be-all. What has happened is part of your story—your testimony—and it can become your victory cry.

Who are you on the other side of your pain? How can the Lord redeem all that has happened? What is the enemy trying so hard to keep you from?

Please pay attention to what is in your heart. Don’t ignore the emotions that arise. Reach out to a trusted and safe person. To your local pastor or a brother/sister in Christ. If you’ve thought of starting therapy but have not, give it a chance. As you read this, I pray the Lord surrounds you with love and peace, and reminds you daily how precious you are to Him and how much you and your story matter.

I am rooting and praying for your healing!!

A Prayer for Forgiveness

Father, You see my heart. You see the wounds I carry—the ones I speak about and the ones I hide. You know the pain that has been done to me, and You know the pain I’ve caused others. Lord, I confess that sometimes I don’t want to forgive. It feels too heavy, too unfair. But I also know that holding on is poisoning my heart. Today, I lay down this hurt before You. I name it, I surrender it, and I ask You to take it. Father, help me forgive—not in my strength, but in Yours. Protect me from bitterness. Heal the broken places in me. Remind me of how deeply I’ve been forgiven through Jesus. Teach me to pray for those who have hurt me, even if all I can pray right now is “Lord, help me.” Surround me with Your peace. Let my life tell the story of Your redemption. In Jesus’ name, Amen.