-Pastor Scott
Hey there, you beautiful, messy, wandering souls. Welcome to Faith Ponderings, where we don’t just ask the big questions—we lean into them, poke at them, let them breathe. I’m Pastor Scott, your fellow traveler, your co-wonderer, your let’s-get-curious-about-the-hard-stuff companion. No quick fixes here, no bumper-sticker theology. Just us, the Spirit, and a whole lot of holy mystery.
Today, we’re diving into something that’s both a knife to the heart and a balm to the soul: forgiveness. And not just forgiveness, but reconciliation—that next step, that harder step, where you try to rebuild something after it’s been shattered. Why is it so hard? Like, so damn hard? Why does it feel like you’re climbing a mountain with no summit, lugging a backpack stuffed with rocks labeled “hurt,” “betrayal,” and “they don’t even get it”?
Grab a coffee, a journal, or just a quiet corner of your soul. Let’s sit with this. Let’s wrestle. Let’s see where the Spirit takes us.
The Gritty Beauty of Forgiveness
You ever notice how we love the idea of forgiveness? It sounds so good on paper. “Forgive and forget.” “Let it go.” Cue the Disney soundtrack, right? But then you try it, and it’s like… whoa. This isn’t a Hallmark card. This is gritty. This is raw. This is you staring at the person who hurt you—or maybe just their ghost in your memory—and your heart screams, “I can’t. I won’t. They don’t deserve it.”
And here’s the thing: that feeling? It’s real. It’s human. It’s not wrong to feel it. Forgiveness isn’t a transaction, like paying a bill or checking a box. It’s a journey. A process. A tearing-open of your soul to say, “I’m not gonna let this wound define me anymore.” It’s a gift you give yourself, with God’s help, to set your heart free.
But reconciliation? Oh, that’s another beast. That’s saying, “Not only am I letting go of this pain, but I’m gonna try to rebuild something with you. Something new. Something fragile.” And that’s where it gets messy. Because while forgiveness is yours to give, reconciliation takes two.
What Does Scripture Say?
Let’s go to the Bible, because it doesn’t shy away from this mess. In Matthew 18:21-22, Peter—good ol’ Peter, always asking what we’re thinking—comes to Jesus and says, “Lord, how many times should I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?” Seven! Peter’s feeling generous. That’s a lot of forgiveness. But Jesus? He blows it up. “Not seven times, but seventy-seven times.” Or in some translations, seventy times seven. Jesus is saying, “Peter, stop counting. Forgiveness isn’t a math problem. It’s a way of being.”
But here’s what gets me: Jesus doesn’t say, “And then reconcile every time.” Forgiveness is one thing—you release the debt, you let go of the grudge. Reconciliation, though? That’s a bridge you build together. It takes trust, rebuilt brick by brick. It takes the other person showing up, owning their stuff, saying, “I see the hurt I caused.” And sometimes… they don’t. Sometimes they can’t. Sometimes they won’t.
So what do you do then? Do you keep forgiving, seventy-seven times, while they keep swinging? Or is there a point where you say, “I forgive you, but I can’t walk with you anymore”? That’s the tension. That’s where we sit, in the ache, asking, “God, what now?”
Joseph’s Story: A Slow, Cautious Dance
Let’s look at Joseph in Genesis 45. This guy’s brothers sold him into slavery. Slavery. Years of betrayal, pain, abandonment. And yet, when he’s standing there, powerful in Egypt, and his brothers show up, he doesn’t just forgive them—he weeps, he embraces them, he reconciles. But it wasn’t instant. It took years. It took his brothers showing some remorse, some change. And even then, Joseph tested them. He didn’t fling open the door and say, “All good!” He watched. He waited. He protected his heart.
I wonder… is that what reconciliation looks like? A slow, cautious dance? A willingness to hope, but not a blindness to reality? Because we love the story of the prodigal son in Luke 15:11-32—the father running out, arms wide, party planned. It’s beautiful. But what if the son came back and said, “I’m not sorry, I just need more cash”? Would the father still throw the party? Or would he say, “I love you, I forgive you, but we’re not there yet”?
The Tension of Reconciliation
This is why it’s so hard. Forgiveness is yours to give—it’s a gift you offer, even if the other person never receives it. But reconciliation? That’s a bridge you build together. And sometimes, the other side isn’t ready to meet you halfway. Sometimes, they’re not safe to build with. Maybe they’re still wielding the same weapons that hurt you. Maybe they’ll never say sorry. And that’s where we need wisdom. That’s where we need prayer, community, maybe even a good therapist to help us sort through the wreckage.
Some of us are carrying wounds from people who will never apologize. A parent who failed you. A friend who betrayed you. A spouse who broke your trust. And the church—oh, the church—sometimes tells us, “Just forgive! Move on! Be the bigger person!” But what if being the bigger person means saying, “I forgive you, but I need boundaries”? What if it means loving from a distance? Is that less holy? Or is that just… human?
Psalm 147:3 says, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” I love that. God’s not standing there saying, “Hurry up and forgive so I can love you.” He’s binding up your wounds. He’s healing your broken heart. And maybe forgiveness is part of that healing—not for them, but for you. To set you free. To say, “This hurt doesn’t get to own me anymore.”
Forgiveness vs. Reconciliation: A Holy Distinction
Here’s where I’m landing, friends. Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself, with God’s help, to let go of the poison. It’s saying, “I’m not gonna let this grudge eat me alive.” It’s a solo act, a sacred release. Reconciliation, though? That’s a mutual project. It’s a bridge you build, but only when it’s safe, only when there’s shared work. Sometimes, reconciliation means restoring a relationship to what it was. Other times, it means building something new—something different, something that honors the truth of what happened.
And God? He’s in both. He’s in the letting go and the rebuilding. He’s in the tears and the boundaries. He’s in the “I forgive you” and the “I can’t trust you right now.” He’s writing a story of healing, even when it’s messy.
Where Are You in This?
So, where are you in this? What’s stirring in your heart? Are you stuck on forgiving someone, wrestling with that seventy-seven times thing? Or are you wondering if reconciliation is even possible—or safe? Maybe you’re carrying guilt because you can’t reconcile, and you’re wondering if that makes you a bad Christian. Can I just say… you’re not alone. This is hard. It’s supposed to be hard. It’s holy work, but it’s not instant. It’s a journey.
Here’s a challenge: Take a moment to reflect. Journal it out, pray it through, or just sit in the quiet. Ask yourself:
- What hurt am I carrying that I need to release?
- Is there a relationship where reconciliation is possible, or do I need boundaries instead?
- How is God inviting me to heal, right here, right now?
And if you’re feeling stuck, share your ponderings. Drop a comment, send me a message, or talk it out with someone you trust. We’re in this together.
A Closing Prayer
Let’s close with a breath. Inhale… exhale… God, you see the hurts we carry. You see the walls we’ve built, the bridges we’re scared to cross. Heal us. Guide us. Show us how to forgive, how to love, how to be whole. Amen.
Thanks for being here, you beautiful souls. This is Faith Ponderings, and I’m Pastor Scott. Keep asking, keep wrestling, keep trusting. Peace to you.
What’s stirring in you? Share your thoughts in the comments below. Let’s keep pondering together.

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