🌿 Forgive: Choosing freedom.
Lent: In a fractured world, forgiveness is a quiet act of resistance.
As we continue our slow journey toward the darkest night, I can’t help but marvel at how Christ, betrayed and beaten, embodies forgiveness.
In a world that so often chooses retaliation, he chooses redemption. In the face of cruelty, Jesus opens his arms.
This is the invitation of Lent: To loosen our grip, to release what cannot redeem us, and to prepare our hearts not only for death, but for the kind of love that rises again.
This Lent, what would it look like for you to forgive—to release what was never yours to carry?
Forgiveness can feel like a quiet death. Maybe for you, it’s the death of ego or expectation. Or maybe it’s the death of needing to be right, or of holding onto the illusion that you are in control.
When we’ve been holding something for so long—a grudge, a heartbreak, a betrayal, a wound—what do we do with our hands when they’re finally empty?
Forgiveness takes us by the shoulder, looks into our eyes, and asks us, Do you want to be right—or do you want to be free?
These are the weeks when we prepare our hearts for resurrection, but resurrection never comes without death. And forgiveness? It’s one of the most resurrection-shaped choices we’ll ever make.
Ephesians 4:32 says:
“Be kind and tenderhearted to one another, and forgive one another,
as God has forgiven you through Christ.”
Look around. The world is aching under the weight of everything that feels unforgivable. Violence, cruelty, silence in the face of suffering.
A thousand small betrayals.
A thousand loud injustices.
And not just out there, but here, in the places closest to us: Our families and churches. Our friendships and our communities.
We don’t need to paint a picture of how sin tries to erode the beauty in and among us. We see it. We feel it.
So what do we do with that?
We wait for the promise of restoration. We live into the tension of the already and the not-yet. We lean toward the whisper of redemption that is coming—and somehow, also already here.
Let me be clear:
Forgiveness does not mean excusing harm.
Forgiveness does not mean returning to unsafe situations.
Forgiveness does not mean the burden of reconciliation rests on the victim.
Forgiveness is deep work, and depending on your hurt, you may need a trauma-informed therapist to walk with you.
But it does mean this: When we forgive, something heals inside of us. A quiet resurrection begins. The weight of bitterness loosens. The voice that tells us we are unworthy or unlovable begins to fade. Forgiveness doesn’t make the pain right—but it helps set us right.
Forgiveness reveals three goodnesses simultaneously. When we forgive, we choose the goodness of the other over their faults, we experience God’s goodness flowing through ourselves, and we also experience our own capacity for goodness in a way that almost surprises us.
Richard Rohr
Forgiveness sets us free. But that’s not to say that when we forgive, we are free from rebound grief for what was lost. For what cannot be undone. For what should have been but wasn’t. For what was and should never have been.
Sometimes, we let our anger become a brick in the backpack we carry every day. It’s just…a part of us. And when we finally set it down, we might feel both relief and disorientation.
What now? What does it mean to live free and light?
“Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it.
Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.
I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.
Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”
— Matthew 11:29–30 (MSG)
As we move toward Holy Week, we remember that Jesus, dying, breath ragged, said:
Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing. (Luke 23:34)
What kind of love says that? What kind of freedom offers that?
Forgiveness doesn’t deny the cross. It stares directly at it—at what was broken—and chooses, somehow, love.
April Reading Plan
I think of this month’s reading plan as a gentle guide for the road to resurrection. April’s plan includes weekly prayers & readings from To Light Their Way and Every Season Sacred, scripture for Holy Week, and simple prayers to borrow when words are hard to find. (Both of my books of prayers are on sale and would be a thoughtful gift to throw in an Easter basket for a parent in your life who could need some encouragement.)
Designed to meet you in the everyday and point you gently toward hope, this reading plan can be printed or saved to your phone or tablet for easy access throughout the month. Thank you again to Kara, a member of our community, for graciously putting this together for April 2025! Click below to download.
No Hard Feelings
One of my all-time favorite songs is “No Hard Feelings” by the Avett Brothers.
As you listen to or read the lyrics, reflect on what the imagery in the song means to you in this season.
When my body won't hold me anymore
And it finally lets me free
Will I be ready?
When my feet won't walk another mile
And my lips give their last kiss goodbye
Will my hands be steady when I lay down my fears, my hopes, and my doubts?
The rings on my fingers, and the keys to my house
With no hard feelingsWhen the sun hangs low in the west
And the light in my chest won't be kept held at bay any longer
When the jealousy fades away
And it's ash and dust for cash and lust
And it's just hallelujah
And love in thought, love in the words
Love in the songs they sing in the church
And no hard feelingsLord knows, they haven't done much good for anyone
Kept me afraid and cold
With so much to have and holdWhen my body won't hold me anymore
And it finally lets me free
Where will I go?
Will the trade winds take me south through Georgia grain?
Or tropical rain?
Or snow from the heavens?Will I join with the ocean blue?
Or run into a savior true?
And shake hands laughing
And walk through the night, straight to the light
Holding the love I've known in my life
And no hard feelingsLord knows, they haven't done much good for anyone
Kept me afraid and cold
With so much to have and holdUnder the curving sky
I'm finally learning why
It matters for me and you
To say it and mean it too
For life and its loveliness
And all of its ugliness
Good as it's been to me
I have no enemiesI have no enemies
I have no enemies
I have no enemies
Speaking of Music
I’ve been listening to Mumford & Sons’ new album Rushmere on repeat. It’s steeped in faith and has been a balm for my weary soul. Just…listen.
And have tissues ready for the last song, Carry On.
Year of Breath
As we move toward Holy Week, we reflect on the sacred and surprising invitation of forgiveness—how it forms us and sets us free. This week, you’ll find space to slow down and consider what you’ve been carrying, what it might mean to release it, and how grief and grace often walk side by side.
Keep reading to find:
Daily breath prayers for this week
Five long-form, guided reflection questions
A contemplative spiritual practice
A curated playlist for this week centered around forgiveness
A downloadable phone wallpaper
A closing benediction to carry with you
Breath Prayer
Monday
INHALE: God of mercy,
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