The Narrow Way

Forgiveness has been a difficult journey for me, but what I didn’t expect was how closely it would be tied to boundaries.

For a long time, I believed forgiveness meant immediate access, instant reconciliation, and the quiet endurance of whatever came next.

I thought loving like Jesus meant staying available to people who hurt me, even when that presence continued to reopen wounds that were still trying to heal.

But God has been gently reshaping that understanding.

Forgiveness, I am learning, does not erase wisdom. It does not cancel discernment. And it certainly does not require me to remain in environments where my heart, peace, or well-being are continually compromised.

Forgiveness releases bitterness, boundaries protect healing. And both, I have discovered, can exist together without contradiction.

That realization has changed not only how I relate to people, but how I see God.

There was a time when I subconsciously viewed God as someone who expected endless endurance without protection, as if a good relationship meant tolerating harm indefinitely.

I never would have said it out loud, but somewhere deep inside, I believed God valued sacrifice more than wholeness, endurance more than restoration.

But scripture shows something different.

God forgives, yet He sets boundaries. He is merciful, yet He is just.

Jesus forgave freely, but He also walked away from crowds, withdrew from hostility, and did not entrust Himself to those whose hearts were not safe. Even divine love has wisdom.

Understanding that has been deeply freeing. It has shown me that boundaries are not a lack of faith, they are often an expression of it.

They are trusting that God can work in someone’s life without my constant closeness. They are trusting that obedience to God sometimes looks like stepping back instead of stepping closer.

Forgiveness healed my heart, but boundaries are helping keep it whole.

And perhaps most profoundly, forgiveness has softened how I see God.

I no longer see Him as demanding resilience at any cost. I see Him as protective. Gentle. Patient. A Father who does not rush healing and does not confuse love with exposure to continued harm.

He is not asking me to prove forgiveness by abandoning wisdom. He is asking me to trust Him enough to release people into His care while allowing Him to care for me, too.

That shift has brought peace I didn’t know I was allowed to have.

There are still moments when guilt tries to creep in, whispering that boundaries are selfish or unforgiving.

But I am learning to recognize that voice for what it is, not conviction, but conditioning. And God continues to remind me that He is not honored by my exhaustion or my wounds being reopened. He is honored by my trust, my obedience, and my willingness to walk in both grace and truth.

Forgiveness has made my heart softer. Boundaries have made it steadier. And together, they have drawn me closer to the heart of God than I have ever been before.

Forgiving someone does not mean you owe them access. You can release bitterness while still protecting your peace. You can love someone from a distance. You can pray for them without reopening the door.

And God is not disappointed in you for that. He may very well be guiding you toward it.

I am still learning. Still healing. Still trusting. But I can say this with certainty now, forgiveness did not make me weaker. It made me freer. And boundaries are teaching me how to live in that freedom without fear.

God has been kinder than I knew. More protective than I expected. And far more faithful than my pain once allowed me to see.

And that, more than anything, is what this season has changed.