Mastering the Art of Forgiveness

Lately, the Holy Spirit has been gently dealing with me when it comes to forgiveness. Now, I’ve always considered myself a forgiving person. And maybe at one point, I truly was. But as I started to reflect on some of the deeper, more painful experiences in my life - the moments that left lasting marks - I realised something: somewhere along the journey, I had let go of that soft, forgiving heart I once carried so freely.

I used to be that girl - understanding to a fault, patient, and always willing to give grace. But life has a way of hardening you. People take advantage, lessons get learned the hard way, and eventually, I began to equate forgiveness with weakness. As I started learning how to build boundaries, communicate them, and enforce them, I subconsciously let my heart grow rigid. What once was wisdom turned into armour. I found myself holding on to offense, especially when the wrong was unprovoked. I got to a place where I wouldn’t even accept apologies anymore. I remember saying, almost proudly, “From now on, people can stand on what they said and did. I don’t need your apology, and you can go ahead and stay out of my life.”

Where I once searched for understanding - asking why someone acted out, hurt me, or betrayed me - I stopped caring about the why. My mindset became: “It is what it is. You did what you did. And now you’re dead to me.” Whew. And listen, it felt powerful… at first. But here’s the thing: unforgiveness, even in its most subtle form, is like a seed. And if that seed is left unchecked, it grows roots. Then branches. Before long, those branches bear fruit - anger, hate, even revenge.

Over time, I became less tolerant, always on guard, always ready to let someone know I wasn’t the one to play with. Until a few weeks ago, someone I hadn’t spoken to in a while called to apologise. This was over a situation that had gone down a year or two prior. I never got to say how I felt when it happened, so when the opportunity came, I let it all out, raw and unfiltered. And let’s just say, it wasn’t very Christlike.

They were shocked. And I mean genuinely taken aback. “This isn’t you,” they said. “Who changed you?”

It was a simple question, but it stirred something in me.

Because they were right.

Little by little, those seeds had grown. Until the Holy Spirit began to deal with me, not just about forgiveness, but about purity. About holiness. Not the kind we usually talk about - staying away from sex, alcohol, parties. No, this was deeper. The kind of purity that has everything to do with your heart. With your mind. With your soul.

I began to feel the Spirit nudging me: pray for a tender heart. One that forgives as quickly and freely as God has forgiven you. And not just that, but pray for the people who hurt you. Whew. Listen, I won’t lie, at first, my prayers were giving heavy Isaiah 54:15 vibes. But over time, as I yielded, I started to see just how powerful love is when it flows from a place that’s truly pure. And how freeing it is to forgive - really forgive - and let God handle the rest.

Jesus Said Forgive… He Didn’t Say Forget

The idiom “forgive and forget” is one that’s been echoed in churches for decades - almost like scripture, even though it isn’t. And honestly, I think that phrase alone has done more harm than good when it comes to our understanding of forgiveness. I truly believe it’s part of the reason why so many believers, myself included, have struggled, or still struggle, to grasp what forgiveness really is.

“Forgive and forget” implies that if you truly forgive, you must erase the memory of the offense - that you're expected to tolerate or excuse behaviour that was malicious, harmful, or even abusive. And because of that, many Christians feel torn. I’ve spoken with people who flat-out refuse to forgive those who hurt them, not because they’re heartless, or lack compassion, but because they associate forgiveness with saying, “What you did doesn’t matter.” They quote Matthew 18:22 with resentment, convinced that Jesus’ instruction to forgive “seventy times seven” somehow gives others permission to hurt them endlessly, without accountability. But that’s not the heart of the scripture at all.

Matthew 18:21–22 says:

Then Peter came to Him and asked, “Lord, how many times will my brother sin against me and I forgive him and let it go? Up to seven times?”
Jesus answered him, “I say to you, not up to seven times, but seventy times seven.”

Now, because I’m a bit of a logophile - someone who genuinely loves words and their meanings - I tend to read scripture with a deep attention to phrasing. Peter wasn’t asking about a stranger or an enemy. He was asking about his brother - not by blood, but in faith. A fellow believer. Someone also predestined for adoption into the family of God, as outlined in Ephesians 1:5.

And that distinction matters. A lot.

This passage about forgiveness wasn’t about random people. It wasn’t about enemies or repeat offenders outside the faith. It was a teaching moment about forgiveness within the Church - the body of Christ. And that context is essential. Because when we miss it, we also miss the biblical boundaries God has already given us.

As I’ve grown in my understanding of both forgiveness and the mercy of God, I’ve come to a deeper revelation: God’s forgiveness is an inheritance. It is a Kingdom benefit, freely given - but only accessed through relationship with Him. Just like an employee has access to company benefits that a non-employee doesn’t, the mercy and eternal forgiveness of God are reserved for those who belong to Him.

So why does this matter?

Because when we misapply Kingdom principles outside of Kingdom context, we create unnecessary suffering. Many of us are trying to offer unlimited forgiveness to people who were never meant to have unlimited access to us in the first place. And when it hurts, we wonder if something’s wrong with our faith, when really, what’s missing is discernment.

Let’s circle back to verse 21:

“How many times will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him and let it go?”

This passage is a call to preserve the unity and integrity of the body of Christ. Because we are one body, connected by purpose and design. 1 Corinthians 12:12–27 explains that though we are many members, we make up one body. If my foot offends my brain, and my brain decides to disconnect from my foot entirely, I now walk with a limp, because disconnection harms the whole.

That’s why forgiveness within the Church is essential. We cannot function in divine unity without it. We’re instructed to forgive not just for the sake of peace, but for the spiritual health and wholeness of the body.

Now, am I saying we shouldn’t forgive non-believers? Not at all.

We forgive everyone, always - because it keeps our hearts clean. Because God calls us to holiness. But what I am saying is this: boundaries matter, especially when dealing with malice, manipulation, or wickedness outside the household of faith. And I emphasise outside the body of Christ, because such behaviour should not be characteristics of those who truly walk with God.

God is not careless. If He takes the time to number the hairs on your head, you can be sure He cares deeply about your wellbeing; spiritually, emotionally, and mentally. He’s not asking you to put yourself in harm’s way in the name of forgiveness.

Scripture gives us clear tools for guarding our hearts and maintaining boundaries:

• “Guard your heart with all diligence, for from it flow the springs of life.” (Proverbs 4:23)

• “Warn a divisive person once, then warn them a second time. After that, have nothing to do with them.” (Titus 3:10–11)

Now, that last scripture is often seen as harsh, but it’s biblical. And while the context is specific, the principle still applies. We are allowed, even instructed, to separate ourselves from people who consistently stir up division and damage, especially if they refuse to repent.

I say all of this to make one thing clear: forgiveness and boundaries are not enemies. They go hand in hand. You can forgive someone fully and still choose not to re-enter into a relationship with them. Forgiveness does not require reconciliation, especially in cases where the original relationship lacked a godly foundation - whether that’s friendship, family, romantic, or business.

And that brings me back to “forgive and forget” .

This phrase that has probably hindered more healing than it has helped.

When someone hears “forgive and forget,” they often interpret it to mean that forgiveness erases consequences. That once you’ve forgiven someone, the door is back open and all is well. But that’s not true. Even Judas had to face the consequence of his betrayal (Acts 1:18). And while the betrayal itself was heartbreaking, it was also part of fulfilling Jesus’ purpose. In the same way, some people in your life - even those who hurt you - were necessary for your growth and for the unfolding of God’s plan.

So let me leave you with this: keep your heart soft. Keep it pure. Be quick to forgive, not because people deserve it, but because your heart needs it. And trust that the same God who sees, hears, and knows all is also the God of justice.

As Paul said in 2 Timothy 4:14:

“Alexander the coppersmith did me great harm; but that is no concern of mine, for the Lord will repay him according to his actions.” (AMP)

You don’t have to carry it. You don’t have to fix it. You don’t even have to forget it.

You just have to forgive - and let God handle the rest.

P, xo