There’s a couple sitting in our church office who deeply hurt us.
A few years ago, they betrayed our trust in a way that left us reeling to put it lightly. The details don’t matter as much as the pain—the kind that makes you question everything you thought you knew about someone. The kind that makes you want to protect yourself, your family and keep your distance.
For months, Holly and I went back and forth. Should we cut ties? Should we confront them? Should we just let it fade away and move on?
But then we kept running into the same uncomfortable truth in Scripture: Jesus doesn’t give us the option to love only the people who are easy to love.
In Matthew 5:43-48, Jesus says something that still makes me uncomfortable: “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven.”
Love your enemies. Pray for those who hurt you. Not because they deserve it. But because that’s what makes you look like your Father.
Dostoevsky wrote, “Love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared with love in dreams.” And he’s right. It’s easy to talk about forgiveness in theory. It’s brutal to practice it when you’re the one who’s been wounded.
Holly and I had a choice: we could protect ourselves and stay distant, or we could walk toward reconciliation—even when it felt costly and uncomfortable.
So we invited them to meet with us and our pastor who would help navigate the conversation. We told them how much their actions hurt us. We listened to their apologies. And slowly, painfully, we’re choosing to forgive.
Forgiveness doesn’t mean pretending the hurt didn’t happen. It means refusing to let bitterness define the relationship.
The Apostle John—the same guy who once wanted to call down fire on people who rejected Jesus—later wrote: “Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen.” (1 John 4:20)
That’s a gut-check. You can’t claim to love God while nursing hatred toward the people who’ve wronged you.
This doesn’t mean reconciliation is always possible or even safe. Sometimes love means boundaries. But it always means refusing to let bitterness take root.
In marriage, this principle is everything. Because the person you’re closest to will also be the person who hurts you most. And if you can’t learn to forgive your spouse—not just once, but over and over—your marriage won’t survive.
Your marriage will only go as far as your willingness to forgive.
This week, ask yourself: Is there unforgiveness between you and your spouse that’s quietly creating distance? Maybe it’s not a massive betrayal. Maybe it’s just accumulated small hurts you’ve never let go of.
Name it. Bring it to God. Then choose to forgive—not because it’s easy, but because that’s what love looks like in action.
Best,
Mike and Holly
