DEEPER STILL: Week Thirty-Nine

Forgiveness is a Process, Not a Moment

Philippians 3:13

“Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead…”

Reflections

We often want forgiveness to be a clean break—a one-time decision that immediately sets us free. But for those of us who have walked through trauma, forgiveness feels more like an onion needing to be peeled layer by layer. Memories return. Emotions resurface. Triggers sneak in unexpectedly. It feels like failure, but it is actually the nature of healing.

The apostle Paul, who suffered pain and persecution, reminds us that even in our spiritual growth, we haven’t fully “arrived.” We reach forward. Some days we limp. Some days we run. And some days, we breathe and choose not to pick the offense back up. This kind of endurance—this refusal to dwell on the past—is a spiritual practice. It doesn’t mean we suppress our pain. It means we resist the urge to relive the wound in detail; it’s a refusal to allow it to define our identity. Ruminating over wounds steals our forward movement. But choosing patient, steady surrender—peeling the onion layer by layer—moves us toward healing.

We see this kind of long obedience in the life of Joseph. Betrayed by his brothers, sold into slavery, wrongfully imprisoned—his story could have been one of rehearsing wounds and bitterness. But instead of focusing on the injustice, Joseph continued to entrust his life to God. Years later, when face to face with the very brothers who hurt him, he wept—not from rage, but from the reality of God’s mercy. His heart was open. His forgiveness had been realized by peeling the onion of oppression layer by layer—tested over time—but it endured. His declaration in Genesis 50:20 is a powerful sign of surrender: “You meant evil against me; but God meant it for good.” That kind of perspective doesn’t come quickly. It’s the fruit of patience and daily yielding.

Forgiveness also requires a ready posture of repentance—not just for those who wrong us, but for ourselves. As we heal, we may notice our own bitterness, pride, or attempts at control rising to the surface. Instead of hiding those reactions, we can bring them to God with honesty: “Lord, I still feel hard. I still want justice more than mercy. Soften me.” That kind of heart—humble and willing—is what God blesses. He never demands perfection in the process, only honesty and surrender.

Ultimately, the call is not to force an outcome, but to remain willing. A willing heart doesn’t deny the pain—it entrusts it. It says, “God, I’m open—even if it takes me years to fully let go.” He honors that posture. The work of forgiveness is divine, but the willingness to enter that process belongs to us. And God is ever ready to walk the journey with us as we process the pain layer by layer.

Are you remaining in the posture of perseverance as you peel back the layers of the pain?

Prayer

Lord, I don’t want to rush what You are doing in me. Help me to stay in the process without growing weary. When I feel like I’m not getting anywhere, remind me: every step of surrender is a step toward freedom.