Dearest Reader of Mine,
There are certain weights we carry that do not appear heavy from the outside, yet our souls feel every ounce of them, such as unspoken hurts, unresolved memories, people we loved who disappointed us, people we trusted who broke something inside us, or moments when we needed protection and felt exposed instead.
Last year, I wrote openly about forgiveness and choosing to release the grudge I had carried against my aunt. I shared how I let it go, how God met me there, how freedom followed. And many of you reached out, some were encouraged, some were healed, and some were honest enough to say, âTemi, maybe it was easier for you because what she did wasnât that deep.â Hmm, âSome wounds are heavier⊠Some hurts are harder to release.
And I want to say this clearly: I hear you.
What I didnât share fully then is that the moment that broke something in me happened when my back was against the wall, when I was lying still on a hospital bed, suspended between life and death, vulnerable in a way words still struggle to explain. That moment mattered, that wound was real, and the pain was not light.
Forgiveness did not come because it didnât hurt. It came because I could not survive while holding on to it. Forgiveness is not a soft word⊠Forgiveness is brave⊠Forgiveness is work⊠Forgiveness is a journey, and forgiveness is freedom.
Letâs do a bit of role play. I will hold your hand as I say this, looking straight into your eyes, Forgiveness Is Not Forgetting. Many people think forgiveness means pretending nothing happened. God never asks us to erase our memories. He asks to heal it. Healing does not come from minimising pain but from surrendering pain.
Forgiving does not mean what happened was okay; it means I refuse to let what happened become my prison. It means I release my right to revenge, my right to replay, my right to rehearse the wound, and I place the story back into Godâs hands.
Forgiveness is a process because some wounds donât leave all at once; it happens in layers. Some days it is a bold declaration and other days it is a whisper: âLord, I release this again. Please help my heart.
And God, gentle, patient, faithful, meets us every single time.
I am not asking you to rush, not asking you to deny your pain, not asking you to forgive because it sounds spiritual. I am asking you to believe that your heart deserves rest, that your future is too beautiful to be weighed down by yesterdayâs wounds, that you were not created to live in emotional prisons.
A Gentle Prayer for You
Lord, take every place in me that still carries pain. Teach me to forgive, not by my strength but by Yours. Heal what was broken, restore what was lost, and make my heart whole again. Amen.
My gentlest reader, allow God to lift you and let His peace wash over you. Let forgiveness open the door to your flourishing. I am walking beside you⊠I am praying with you⊠I am cheering for your freedom.
This is your season to be free.
With love,
Your Favourite Temi