The Narrow Way

As I’ve slowly found my way back to writing, I keep realizing that the quiet of this season wasn’t just about grief, it was about forgiveness.

The kind that has to be chosen again and again, sometimes without apology, without reconciliation, and without anyone ever fully acknowledging the damage that was done.

Forgiveness is often talked about as freedom, and it is, but what we don’t always speak about is that freedom is preceded by deep pain. Forgiveness asks us to lay down our right to be understood, to be vindicated, to be repaid. It asks us to trust God with justice when every part of us wants to carry it ourselves.

This season has taught me that forgiveness is not pretending something didn’t hurt. Forgiveness is standing face to face with the truth of what happened and still choosing to trust God.

There were moments when forgiveness felt impossible, when it felt unfair, when it felt like one more thing being asked of a heart that had already been through too much.

And yet, this is where Jesus met me again.

Jesus never minimizes our suffering, and He never asks us to deny it. He enters it.

Forgiveness, I am learning, is not something you feel your way into. It is something you obey your way into. And feelings often follow later.

There are people who will never say they’re sorry. There are wounds that will never receive closure in the way we hoped. And if forgiveness depended on repentance from others, many of us would remain bound forever.

But God, in His mercy, never tied our freedom to someone else’s willingness to own their wrongdoing.

Forgiveness doesn’t mean access is restored. It doesn’t mean trust is rebuilt. It doesn’t mean boundaries disappear. Forgiveness simply means I am choosing to stop drinking the poison of bitterness and calling it justice. It means I am choosing life, even when it’s costly.

And something else happens when forgiveness is chosen, healing continues.

This season has taught me that forgiveness is not weakness. It is one of the bravest, most defiant acts of faith there is. It is declaring that pain will not have the final word, that God is trustworthy with what I release, and that love will not be overcome by evil.

If you are walking this road too, if forgiveness feels heavy, unfair, or out of reach, please know, you are not failing because it’s hard. You are human. Take it to Jesus. Lay it down in pieces if you must. He is patient. He understands. And He will not ask you to forgive without also offering the grace to do it.

Forgiveness is not the end of the story. It is the doorway into deeper freedom, deeper healing, and a deeper dependence on God than I ever knew before.

And slowly, quietly, faithfully, He is meeting me here.

Love you all,

Annie Stewart Lambert