Conviction Over Culture: Forgiveness

Culture Teaches Separation. Christ Teaches Redemption.

Culture has made unforgiveness look like strength, and what a perfectly engineered plan that is to divide people. Division destroys families, churches, friendships, and communities. It isolates people in their pain and convinces them that holding onto anger is wisdom rather than bondage.

We see it everywhere. Cut them off. Cancel them. Protect your peace. Walk away and never look back.

Now let me be clear about something—this does not mean you should allow abusive people unlimited access to your life. Forgiveness and access are not the same thing. Forgiveness frees your heart. Boundaries protect your peace. You can forgive someone completely and still choose not to remain in a situation where they are actively harming you.

But culture has taken something that should be handled with wisdom and turned it into a default reaction. The moment trust is broken, the story is considered over.

Christ tells a different story.

He tells one of redemption.

Forgiveness is not natural. It is supernatural. It is conviction over culture. And forgiveness has shaped my life from both sides—not only in the moments where I was called to forgive, but in the moments where I desperately needed to be forgiven.

Where I Was Called to Forgive

There have been several times in my life when people I loved deeply hurt me in ways that altered me. And if I am being honest, I have often wondered if God simply wired me to be extra forgiving, or if this is just part of living in a broken world. I do not know the answer to that. But I do know I have faced moments where forgiveness felt impossible.

There was one particular season when someone I trusted deeply hurt me in a way that broke something inside of me. Hurt is not even the right word. I was enraged. Beth Dutton level enraged. I wanted to burn it all down—the relationship, the trust, the history. Everything in me told me to ruin their life the way I felt mine had been ruined and walk away permanently.

My heart told me that was wisdom. It told me that was protection. It told me I was justified.

But in the middle of that chaos, I heard something else.

Wait.

Not audibly, but clearly.

It made no sense. Every instinct in my body argued against it. Everything culture had ever taught me said to protect myself immediately and permanently. People told me I was weak for waiting. Weak for staying still. Weak for not retaliating. I heard the “could never be me” in the most judgmental tone imaginable. People judged my forgiveness more harshly than they judged the offense itself. They would have applauded my destruction. Seriously.

And I am grateful beyond words that I waited. That I tuned out the noise. That I followed conviction instead of instinct.

Had I acted on my rage, I would have destroyed something God had not even begun to restore.

All I could see was pain. Pain so deep it felt physical at times. But God could see redemption on the other side of obedience.

Scripture tells us plainly in Jeremiah 17:9 that “the heart is deceitful above all things.” That verse makes more sense to me now than it ever did before, because my heart was not leading me toward healing. It was leading me toward destruction disguised as self-protection.

Over time, God did something I could never have forced. Rage turned into grief. Grief turned into healing. Bitterness turned into grace.

Through that forgiveness, that person encountered Christ. They experienced grace in a way they never had before, and it changed them. When they asked me why I forgave them, I told them the truth—it was not because they deserved it. They did not. It was because Jesus forgave me when I did not deserve it.

Today, that relationship is not defined by what broke it, but by what God rebuilt. It is stronger, more honest, and more grounded in Christ than it ever was before.

This was never just about me. My obedience did not only heal what was behind me—it protected what was ahead of me.

My forgiveness broke cycles that could have quietly followed generations to come. Cycles of pride. Cycles of division. Cycles of walking away instead of allowing God to restore.

What culture told me to destroy, God used for HIS good and my own.

A mosaic heaven hand-crafted. One that ministers to others. One that stands as living proof that obedience does not just redeem moments—it redeems legacies.

Had I followed culture, I would have walked away.

Because I followed conviction, God redeemed something I thought was permanently lost.

When Grace Found Me First

There was another relationship in my life that fractured completely. Words were said that should never have been said. Pride took control. Hurt took control. We both became versions of ourselves we were not proud of. And I became someone I am ashamed of at that moment. I was harsh. Defensive. Cruel. Culture would say that relationships should have ended there.

But grace entered the story—and interestingly, it did not begin with me. They apologized first. They humbled themselves first. They extended grace first. I did not expect that. I did not deserve that. And yet, it softened something in me. Today, that person is someone I love lots. Someone my children love. Someone I trust with said children. If you had told me at the height of that conflict that this is where we would be now, I would have laughed in disbelief.

Only God restores relationships like that. Forgiveness did not erase what happened. But it allowed something new to grow where something broken once stood.

When Forgiveness Is Given Without Apology

Not every story ends in reconciliation. This is the part culture does not understand—and honestly, sometimes even the church struggles with it too. There are people who will never apologize. People who will never acknowledge what they did. People who will never change.

And still, we are called to forgive. Not because they asked. Not because they earned it.

Not because restoration is guaranteed. But because unforgiveness poisons the vessel that carries it. Forgiveness is not always about restoring the relationship. Sometimes it is about releasing the hold it has on your heart. There are people I have forgiven who are no longer in my life. Not out of bitterness. Not out of punishment. But out of wisdom. At this point they have not shown change and even though I miss them my heart has to be guarded from the abuse that they come with.

Forgiveness does not always rebuild the bridge. Sometimes it simply allows you to walk away without carrying the rubble with you. You can wish someone healing.

You can pray for their soul. You can release them fully. And still never allow them access to you again. That is not unforgiveness. That is freedom.

Jesus forgave those who crucified Him while they were still crucifying Him. They did not apologize. They did not repent at that moment. And yet He said, “Father, forgive them.” Forgiveness is not always mutual. Sometimes it is simply obedience to “forgive us of our trespasses as we have forgiven those who have trespassed against us.”

Where I Was Called to Be Forgiven

Forgiveness did not only flow from me. There were also seasons where I was the one who needed grace.

There was a time in my life when I walked away from God. I chose my own path. I hardened my heart. I believed I knew better. I left the foundation I had been raised on and followed beliefs not rooted in truth.

And still, He welcomed me back.

He did not shame me.

He did not reject me.

He did not punish me.

He loved me.

That kind of forgiveness changes you. It humbles you. It reminds you that none of us stand on moral high ground truthfully we all stand on the firm foundation that is one thousand mistakes and a tremendous amount of grace.

There were also moments where my own pain caused me to hurt others. Moments where I was not the victim, but the offender. And still, forgiveness met me there too. Not because I earned it.

Because that is the nature of Christ.