The Real Cost of Holding On — Part Two

We often like to think forgiveness is optional. Like some kind of “bonus round” for the spiritually elite. But I can't say I believe that Jesus left it as a side quest. In Matthew 6, right after teaching us to pray, He says, “If you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men… neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.” That’s not subtle.

The gospel doesn’t just save us; it trains us. It drags us—sometimes kicking and screaming—into the way of the cross. Forgiveness isn’t weak. It’s warfare. You’re declaring that sin, bitterness, and vengeance don’t get the final word in your life. You’re siding with heaven over hell.

King David knew this fight. In Psalm 32 he wrote, “When I kept silent, my bones grew old through my groaning all the day long.” That’s what unforgiveness does—it eats you alive from the inside out. But then he says, “I acknowledged my sin to You… and You forgave the iniquity of my sin.” The relief in that line is almost audible, even tangible. Freedom follows confession.

Then Paul comes swinging in from Ephesians 4: “Let all bitterness, wrath, anger… be put away from you, with all malice. And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you.” You can almost hear him saying, “Don’t just talk theology—live it.” Or as we like to say... Act Like It.

Forgiveness is the test of whether we’ve actually believed the gospel we claim to preach. It’s not about ignoring pain; it’s about transferring ownership. Justice belongs to the Lord. You and I aren’t built to carry it. You ever notice that the more you try to hold on, the heavier it gets? Like trying to bench press your own bitterness—it’ll crush you eventually.

The cross is where every unpaid debt goes to die. That’s why Jesus could look His executioners in the eye and say, “Father, forgive them.” He wasn’t just setting an example—He was setting the standard.

So maybe Holy Spirit’s nudging you about someone you’ve kept locked up in your heart. Maybe that person’s never apologized, never will. And, it doesn’t matter. The open door isn’t for them—it’s for you. Let it swing open. Step into the fresh air of Christ's peace by extending forgiveness. Because when you finally let go, you’ll realize that all along, you weren’t holding them captive. You were the one in the cage.