Let Go and Live Free

Sister Chioma has not spoken to her brother in three years. He borrowed money during the recession and never repaid it. Every time she sees him at church or family gatherings, her chest tightens. The hurt feels justified—the debt was real, the broken promise stings. Yet lately, she notices something troubling: she carries this bitterness like a stone in her heart, and it is crushing her.

This is the weight that unforgiveness carries. We tell ourselves we are protecting ourselves by refusing to forgive, but we are actually imprisoning ourselves.

Paul writes to the Colossians: “Forbearing one another, and forgiving one another, if any man have a quarrel against any: even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye.” The Greek word for “forgiving” here is *charizomai*—to show favour, to give graciously. Forgiveness is not about declaring the other person’s debt cancelled because they deserve it. It is about releasing your grip on what they owe you, the way Christ released our infinite debt at the Cross.

Notice the foundation: “even as Christ forgave you.” We were enemies of God, steeped in sin, deserving only judgment. Yet Christ paid what we could never pay and offered us clean slate. That act was not sentimental—it was costly and absolute. When we forgive as He forgave, we align ourselves with His character and His power.

In Matthew 6:14-15, Jesus teaches: “For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you: But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.” This is not punishment; it is spiritual law. Unforgiveness hardens the heart toward God’s own forgiveness. The stone you carry in your chest hardens your ability to receive grace.

Peter once asked Jesus, “Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven times?” Jesus answered, “I say not unto thee, Until seven times: but, Until seventy times seven” (Matthew 18:21-22). Not because there is a magic number, but because forgiveness is not accountancy—it is transformation. Each time we choose to forgive, we are choosing to believe that God’s grace is bigger than the hurt.

Chioma’s path forward is not to pretend the debt does not matter. It is to lay it down. To say: “I release you from what you owe me, because Christ released me from what I owed Him.” This does not mean she must lend to her brother again tomorrow. Forgiveness and wisdom are both virtues. But it means she stops allowing his past failure to control her present peace.

What stone are you carrying? Whose name do you rehearse in your hurt? Today, forgiveness is not weakness—it is the strength to be free.

Lord, give me the courage to forgive as Christ forgave me, so that I may walk in the freedom He purchased.