In my last blog I shared that God has been pruning me in unexpected ways. Slicing branches deeply exposing my very core. He’s been working in many areas of my life, revealing pride and error in the hidden places of my heart.

I’ve been convicted with this verse:But whatever gain I had, I counted a loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith – that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.Phil 3:7-11

What am I willing to give up for the sake of Christ?

It came as a surprise this morning to believe that the last thing to count as a loss may be my unforgiveness. It’s worth mentioning that I am not through this process. I’m not even certain I moved past the doorway to forgiveness, but I see the potential beauty and freedom and long for even just a taste of it.

In Lysa Terkeurst’s book Forgiving What You Can’t Forget, her concept of forgiveness is life-changing and powerful. I understood forgiveness was necessary and somewhat of a choice but was centered around a feeling. So, if I struggle to get past the hurt that runs so deep, as the impact of their offense affects my emotions long after, then how and when do I get to a place of forgiveness, especially if the offenses are ongoing?

But forgiveness is letting go of the power it holds over me and allowing their wrong to be forgiven at the cross. Forgiveness doesn’t wait for the emotions to settle. The offender may not own the wrong, but the cross has already covered it. The offender may keep offending, but the cross has already covered it. The offender may not be aware of their offense, but the cross has already covered it. Maybe you can no longer speak to the offender because of death or distance, but the cross has already covered it.

Unforgiveness is thinking they still need repaid for what they’ve done. To rehash, relive, remind myself over and over of what they’ve done so I don’t forget what I feel went unpunished. But can I allow myself to let go of the offense trusting that God will judge the person for the wrong and that I no longer need to hold myself accountable for their consequence or punishment?

THIS PERSON’S OFFENSE WAS LAID AT THE FOOT OF THE CROSS.

Christ sacrificed His life for that very offense. Whether or not they sought forgiveness for it from God, it was paid for at the cross. I have no right to pick it up and shove it in their face or in the face of God, reminding both of the offense that was done. Even if the offenses are ongoing can I lay them all down? Continually. The old, the current, the new. All of them. Not only that, it’s quite unfair of me—a wretched sinner in need of my own massive amount of forgiveness—to hold them accountable. I am not God. I am not their judge.

Lysa writes in her book, it’s hard to give. It’s amazing to get. But when we receive it freely from the Lord and refuse to give it, something heavy starts to form in our souls.

My ability to forgive others rise and falls, instead, on this: leaning into what Jesus has already done, which allows His grace for me to flow freely through me (Eph 4:7). He made a way not dependent on our strength. A forgiving way. A way to grab on to Jesus’ outstretched arms, bloody from crucifixion and dripping with redemption. He covers and forgives what we’ve only been able to hide. He forgives what we could never be good enough to make right. And makes a way for us to simply cooperate with His work of forgiveness – for us to receive and for us to give.

What you give up: the right to demand that the one who hurt you pay you back or be made to suffer for what they’ve done. God will handle this. And even if you never see how God handles it, you know He will.
What you get: the freedom to move on.

But whatever gain I had, I counted a loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him (Phil 3:7-8)

I count everything a loss, I recite to myself. Does this “everything” include the accountability I refuse to give up for their wrongs? Am I to count it as rubbish?

God has been working in every area of my life and what if the remaining part is giving up the wrong that has been done to me? What if the last part is forgiveness?

What am I willing to give up?

I count it as rubbish. Holding onto the wrongs in life is rubbish. They’ve been forgiven at the foot of the cross. It is a waste of my time to carry them along like a ball and chain around my neck. It is likely to be far more of a weight on me than on them, and one not worth carrying.

I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.

But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Philippians 3:13-14