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Walking in Forgiveness: How Letting Go of Past Hurts Frees Your Soul
881 words, 5 minutes read time.
We all carry scars. Some fade with time, others remain tender reminders of wounds that havenât fully healed. Maybe someone betrayed your trust, spoke words that pierced deep, or simply wasnât there when you needed them most. Forgiveness, in these cases, feels impossibleâor even unjust. But Godâs Word tells us that forgiveness isnât about excusing the wrong. Itâs about choosing freedom over bondage. In todayâs devotional, weâll walk together into the liberating, though often difficult, process of forgiving others and releasing the grip of past hurts.
Scripture:
âBear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.â â Colossians 3:13 (NIV)
Reflection/Teaching:
Colossians 3:13 is both comforting and confronting. It comforts us by reminding us that God has forgiven us freely and fully through Christ. Yet, it also challenges us to do the same for others. Forgiveness isnât natural; itâs spiritual. In our own strength, we hold onto pain thinking it protects us. But in reality, it only poisons us. As the saying goes, âHolding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.â
Jesus modeled radical forgiveness. While nailed to the crossâabandoned, mocked, and physically brokenâHe prayed, âFather, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doingâ (Luke 23:34). If the Savior of the world could extend grace in His darkest hour, how can we, as His followers, withhold it?
This doesnât mean forgetting the pain or allowing repeated abuse. Forgiveness is not reconciliation; itâs a one-sided spiritual release that hands the offense over to God. As believers, weâre not called to ignore justice, but to trust God with it. Romans 12:19 reminds us, âDo not take revengeâŠleave room for Godâs wrath.â
Many people carry bitterness like a badge of protection. But Hebrews 12:15 warns that a âroot of bitternessâ can grow and defile many. When we harbor unforgiveness, we block the flow of Godâs peace, joy, and love in our lives. We essentially give power to those who hurt us, allowing them to influence our thoughts, decisions, and even relationships. Walking in forgiveness is about reclaiming that power by surrendering the pain to God.
Letting go is a journey. Itâs okay if it takes time. Some wounds require daily surrender. But with each step, we become more like Christâfreer, lighter, and more available to love others with open hands and an open heart.
Application:
Are you holding onto pain that God is asking you to release today? Take a moment to identify a name, a face, or a memory that still stings. Instead of stuffing it down or pretending itâs gone, bring it into the light of Christâs love. Say the personâs name out loud and choose to forgiveânot because they deserve it, but because you want to walk in freedom.
Consider journaling your feelings, speaking with a trusted Christian counselor, or praying with a friend. Set healthy boundaries if needed, but keep your heart tender before God. Forgiveness may start with a decision, but it grows as a process.
Today, choose freedom over fury, peace over pain, healing over hatred. You may not feel readyâbut you can take the first step. Trust that God will carry you the rest of the way.
Prayer:
Father, I come before You with the weight of wounds Iâve carried for too long. You see the pain. You know the names, the moments, the scars. Today, I surrender them to You. Teach me to forgive as You have forgiven me. I release the bitterness and ask You to fill my heart with Your peace. Heal what is broken, restore what has been lost, and help me walk forward in grace. I trust You with justice. I trust You with healing. In Jesusâ name, Amen.
Closing Thoughts / Call to Action:
Forgiveness is the key that unlocks the door to peace. It may not change your past, but it can radically transform your future. Let today be the start of a new chapterâone marked by grace, not grudges.
If this message spoke to your heart, we invite you to stay connected. Subscribe to our newsletter for weekly devotionals, encouragement, and biblical wisdom to support your walk with Christ. Youâre not aloneâletâs grow in grace together.
D. Bryan King
Sources
Disclaimer:
The views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the author. The information provided is based on personal research, experience, and understanding of the subject matter at the time of writing. Readers should consult relevant experts or authorities for specific guidance related to their unique situations.
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The Forgotten Man: A Parable for a New Generation
1,703 words, 9 minutes read time.
Walking with the Good Samaritan: Servant Leadership for a New EraAffiliate Link
I had been walking down that same road for years. The same dusty, sun-scorched path that split the barren landscape between my home and the bustling marketplace. In a way, it had become my lifelineâfamiliar and predictable. I had learned to hate the road, but I also depended on it. It was a place of isolation, a place where my thoughts could be my only company, where I could let my mind wander and get lost in the monotony of daily life.
There were many things I had forgotten over the years: the face of my father, the laughter of my childhood, the warmth of a friendship that had been long extinguished. What I hadnât forgotten, though, was the road. And one fateful day, I was left to walk it alone.
It started with a quiet whisper in my ear, an enticing invitation to venture out a little further, to see something beyond the ordinary. You see, I had always been a man driven by ambition, by the need for recognition, and by the belief that I deserved more than what my small world had to offer. I had a good life, by many standardsâsafety, security, and a reputation that made people respect meâbut it never felt like enough. There was a hunger in me that was always unsatisfied, a thirst for something more, something greater.
It was this ambition, this longing for more, that led me down the path that would eventually change my life forever.
One day, a wealthy merchant had come to town, and I had heard rumors of the treasures he carried. My instincts told me that if I could make an impression on this man, I could secure my future, maybe even gain the riches I had always dreamed of. But it wasnât just about the moneyâit was about the power, the prestige. It was the chance to prove I was better, that I deserved something more than what I had been given.
So, I began planning. I knew that the road to the merchantâs camp was treacherous, but my pride told me that I could navigate it alone. I was no stranger to hardship. In my mind, I was untouchable, invincible even. Nothing could stand in my way. It was my choices, my will, that would determine my fate. I had walked the road countless times before and had survived every challenge. But this time would be different.
I set out early in the morning, my mind filled with the promise of something greater, something beyond my wildest imagination. As the hours passed, I grew increasingly aware of the isolation around me. The silence of the barren hills, the dust in the air, the weight of the sun pressing down upon my skin. But still, I pressed on.
And then, it happened.
A group of bandits emerged from the shadows of the rocks. They surrounded me with the swiftness of predators, their faces masked, their weapons drawn. I tried to fight back, but I was outnumbered. It didnât take long before I found myself lying on the ground, my body bruised and bloodied. My possessions were taken, my dignity stripped away, and I was left there, half-conscious, alone on the side of the road.
In that moment, I thought to myself, âHow could this have happened? How could I have been so careless?â But deep down, I knew the answer. It was my pride, my arrogance, that had brought me here. It was my own choices, my own desire for more, that had led me to this place of ruin. And as the hours passed, the pain only grew worse, the realization of my foolishness sinking deeper into my bones.
I was not the only one who passed by that day. There were othersâpeople I had once called friends, people I had respected. The first was a priest, a man of God. He saw me lying there, wounded and broken, but he kept walking. I remember the look on his faceâindifference mixed with a touch of superiority. In his eyes, I was nothing more than a nuisance, a distraction from his holy duties. He passed me by without a second thought.
Next came a Levite, a man of the law, someone who had always been quick to uphold tradition and righteousness. He saw me too, but his response was no different from the priestâs. He crossed to the other side of the road, avoiding me with the same cold detachment. It wasnât that he didnât see me; it was that he didnât care.
But then, something unexpected happened.
A man appeared from the distance. He was a Samaritanâa man from a group that my people had long despised. The Jews and the Samaritans had been at odds for generations, locked in a bitter rivalry that went back centuries. Yet, as this Samaritan approached, something in his eyes told me that he was different.
He didnât hesitate. He knelt down beside me, his hands gentle as they touched my wounds. I tried to speak, to thank him, but my voice was weak. He didnât need my gratitude. Instead, he lifted me up, carefully and without judgment, as if I was a brother he had never met before.
The Samaritan didnât just stop to offer a word of sympathy; he took action. He used his own supplies to bandage my wounds and then helped me onto his donkey. The journey to the nearest inn was slow and painful, but he stayed by my side, never once complaining, never once turning away.
At the inn, he paid for my care, ensuring that I would be well-treated until I had recovered. And before he left, he told the innkeeper that if the cost of my stay exceeded what he had already given, he would cover it. âTake care of him,â he said. âWhatever it costs, I will pay.â
I had been left for dead by those who were supposed to help meâby those who considered themselves righteous, by those who believed they were above the likes of me. But the one person I least expected to show mercy was the one who did.
Then Jesus.
It was in that moment that everything changed for me. The story of the Good Samaritan became more than just words. It was my story. I had once been like the priest, like the Levite, judging others from a distance, thinking that my position in society gave me the right to look down on those who were less fortunate. But in my hour of need, I was shown mercy by the one I had been taught to despise. It was as if God Himself had reached down and pulled me out of the pit I had dug for myself.
I realized that my choices had led me to this place. It wasnât fate or bad luck. It was my pride, my refusal to see the humanity in others, my selfish desire for more. And now, I had been given a second chance. The Samaritan didnât owe me anything, yet he gave me everything.
The moral of the story isnât just about helping those in need. Itâs about understanding that we all have a choiceâto be like the priest, to be like the Levite, or to be like the Samaritan. We can choose to turn away, to ignore the suffering of others, or we can choose to step into the mess, to offer mercy where it is least expected.
In that moment, I understood what it truly meant to love my neighbor. It wasnât about who was worthy of my help. It wasnât about whether or not they fit into my social circle, my ideology, or my expectations. It was about showing kindness, compassion, and mercy to those who need it the mostâwithout conditions, without judgment.
And so, I was left with a choice. I could continue down the road of self-righteousness, clinging to my pride and my ambition. Or I could choose to live differently, to be a neighbor to those who were suffering, to show the same mercy that had been shown to me.
I chose the latter. And though I may never fully repay the Samaritan for his kindness, I have vowed to be a good neighbor to others, just as he was to me. I can only hope that my actions, however small, might one day make a difference in someone elseâs lifeâjust as the Samaritanâs actions changed mine.
Now, I see the road differently. Itâs no longer a place of isolation and pride, but a reminder of the choices I make and the impact they have on the world around me. And every time I walk it, I remember that no one is beyond mercy, and that love has the power to transform even the most broken of lives.
And so, my story continuesânot as one of ambition and pride, but as one of grace, humility, and the redemptive power of compassion. I hope itâs a story worth sharing, not just for me, but for all of us.
D. Bryan King
Sources
Disclaimer:
The views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the author. The information provided is based on personal research, experience, and understanding of the subject matter at the time of writing. Readers should consult relevant experts or authorities for specific guidance related to their unique situations.
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