For the Unforgiving Heart
One of my favorite quotes is by Mark Twain: 'Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.' It captures the beauty that can come from deep tragedy.
I’m no stranger to disappointment, and I assume you aren’t either. We’ve all stood there—gutted, breathless, absolutely wrenched by the actions of others.
We know the weight of the dagger.
But as a body of believers, what do we do with that pain? What do we do when we are forced to look at the very person who twisted the blade?
We remember The One who came before us.
The Spirit of Betrayal
Betrayal is nothing new. Jeremiah 17:9 tells us, "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked; who can know it?" Greed and deceit have no specific look or sound; they are manifestations of a spirit that seeks only to kill, steal, and destroy.
Betrayal is a devastating seed. It doesn't just grow; it poisons the soil beneath it, making everything above it wither.
Did you get that?
It is an internal rot that eventually manifests in a terrible, external way.
That is why the "forgive but don't forget" mantra often fails us. While the memory may remain, the hold it has on you must change. Are you mean and bitter, or are you free? Do you extend kindness, or do you build walls? You may think freedom is impossible, but I have seen victims stand before their victimizers and offer a peace that surpasses understanding. They don’t do it because the aggressor deserves it; they do it because they refuse to stay chained to a ghost.
The Pain of the Cross
No one has felt a more profound betrayal than Jesus Christ. He stepped down into humanity only to be ridiculed, cursed, beaten, and abandoned by His inner circle. As His blood spilled into the very dust He created, He didn’t call for vengeance. Instead, He looked at His executioners and said:
"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." (Luke 23:34)
History is stained with this same pain:
Abel’s blood cried out from the ground after Cain’s hand rose against him.
Tamar was disgraced and discarded by her own brother.
Joseph was sold into slavery by the brothers he loved.
Samson was seduced and sold for silver.
Uriah was betrayed by his King, and it cost him his life.
Sin is sick. It is twisted. It pollutes the hearts of men. But sin is not the end of the story.
The Sovereignty of the "Why"
Perhaps your bitterness isn't toward a person. Perhaps it’s toward God. You wonder how He could watch it happen. In those moments, I think of Joseph’s words to his brothers in Genesis 50:20: "But as for you, you meant evil against me; but God meant it for good."
I cannot give you a neat answer for your pain. All I know is that God is sovereign, and His ways are higher than ours. I realized recently: I have survived every "worst day" of my life. Through the shame and the hurt, I am still standing because God was in the fire with me.
The Prison of Unforgiveness
Unforgiveness is a slow death. It is an expensive use of your energy and time. If it doesn’t end today, when does it end? In the grave?
Forgiving someone isn't releasing them from their sin—you aren't the Judge. It’s about releasing yourself. When we refuse to forgive, we handcuff ourselves to the offender and sit in the prison cell with them. But when we forgive, the shackles fall. We walk out of the gate and leave the prison behind for good.
Rewrite the Narrative
I want you to experience the full freedom of Christ. I want you to feel the "balm of Gilead" on that chest wound. I want you to scream, cry, and shout if you must—and then, like Christ on the cross, say, "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit" (Luke 23:46).
To the unforgiving heart: I don’t deny your pain. I don’t understate your trauma. But as someone who has walked through the valley, I know a God who is bigger than your "Why."
The answer is sin, but the solution is Grace.
You are not a victim.
You are a victor.
My Pastor and First Lady told me this: Rewrite the narrative. Stop letting the betrayal be the final chapter. Will you take a radical step of faith today? Even if you have to choose to forgive every single second of the day—do it.
The dagger no longer has a hold on you. The wound is closing. You are free.
