This encouragement is written by Tanner Smith, Chief of Staff at The Colossian Forum.
For a long time, I assumed forgiveness meant letting things go.
I have a relationship with a person who has a pattern of saying hurtful things to me. I tell myself not to take it personally, but I do. After a predictably awful conversation, I began to wonder about “forgiveness” in this relationship. Forgiveness was beginning to feel like always leaving the door open for me to be hurt again.
I imagine many of you know this tension too.
You want to love and live faithfully. You want to love your neighbor and forgive as you’ve been forgiven. But when it comes to the harder relationships in your life, your attempts to let it go or not make a big deal out of it only leave you with lingering resentment.
You keep asking the same questions: How am I supposed to forgive when the impact of what they have done stays with me? How am I supposed to forgive when they do not change their mind, even though their position hurts?
Forgiveness can feel like avoidance.
But the version of forgiveness where we think we have to forget or absorb harm actually keeps us stuck. Forgiveness is not about turning a blind eye. Forgiveness, at its heart, is about turning honestly towards ourselves, others, and God. It asks us to tell the truth about what hurt, seek wisdom in difficult relationships, and entrust what remains unresolved to God, even when the relationship itself doesn’t change.
First, honesty with ourselves. When we are hurt, something real has been lost — trust, safety, hope, or expectation. We have to acknowledge that loss. When grief is allowed, forgiveness no longer asks us to bypass pain. Forgiveness is something I can do to aid in my own healing, whether or not the person I’m forgiving wants to be a part of that healing.
Second, honesty about those in our life. When we notice repeated patterns of harm, we can be discerning about how we let that person into our life. Forgiveness should not be confused with unlimited access, and compassion does not mean unchecked trust. Accountability helps us name when repair or boundaries are needed, so love can be honest rather than avoidant.
Finally, honesty with God. Forgiveness rarely happens in a single moment. Wouldn’t it be nice if it were that easy? If we could say a prayer and not ever need to continually work through it? Instead, when we’ve encountered a rupture in a relationship, true healing only comes when we first accept what’s unresolved and bring it again and again to God for wisdom and direction. Forgiveness keeps us dependent on God.
In the relationship I mentioned earlier, I continued to expect forgiveness to do something it wasn’t meant to — to bring repair.
One distinction that has helped me is learning to separate forgiveness from repair and reconciliation. Forgiveness is about my heart, loosening my grip on resentment and entrusting what I cannot fix to God. Repair requires mutual truth-telling and changed patterns, which I cannot do alone. Reconciliation goes further still, into renewed relationships, often with new boundaries. When I confuse these, I either demand too much of forgiveness or too little of others.
When forgiveness is framed as the work of honesty, it becomes less about reaching resolution and more about remaining open to God’s work. It releases us from the pressure to finish the process quickly or get it right the first time. That shift matters when we listen to Jesus’ call to forgive, especially in the words he offers Peter.
In Matthew 18, when Peter asks how often he must forgive, Jesus responds, “seventy-seven times.” That number acknowledges how hard forgiveness can be. It leaves room for anger, for grief, and for returning again and again to God for help. Forgiveness becomes a practice rather than a finish line, shaped over time in prayer and honesty. As you reflect, you might ask: What is one relationship I need to bring to God in prayer again, rather than avoiding or seeking resolution? Even that question can become a faithful next step.