Letting Go Without an Apology
Apr 14, 2026

Jesus said as he was dying “Forgive them, they don’t know what they are doing.” …oof…Christ on the Cross. This is the model. Even in great harm, we refuse to be controlled by evil and injustice. Every so often, we find ourselves carrying something that never really got resolved. Someone caused harm, and for one reason or another, there was no apology, no acknowledgment, no real chance to talk it through. And so it lingers—not just as a memory, but as something we continue to hold.
Over time, that weight can settle into resentment. It doesn’t usually arrive all at once. It builds, shaping how we think about that person, and sometimes how we move through the world. When we hear the language of forgiveness, it can feel distant or even unrealistic in these moments. What does it mean to let go when nothing has been repaired?
Letting go, in this kind of situation, is not about pretending the harm didn’t matter. It isn’t about excusing what happened or forcing ourselves into a version of peace that isn’t honest. Instead, it is something more gradual. It is the choice, made over time, not to let that moment continue to take up more space in us than it already has. It is a way of loosening the hold that the past can have on our present.
This is not something we accomplish all at once, and it is rarely something we do on our own. It begins with honesty. We bring the hurt before God without minimizing it or rushing past it. We tell the truth about what happened and how it affected us. And then, slowly, we begin to ask for the freedom to carry it differently. God knows us entirely, but naming it before God holds great power for us.
There may still be moments when the memory returns or the feeling rises again – regret or resentment seem to remain. That does not mean we have failed. It simply means we are human, and that healing takes time. Each time we notice it, we are given another opportunity to respond with intention rather than being pulled along by resentment or regret.
Over time, something begins to shift. Not necessarily in the other person, and not always in the circumstances, but within us. The weight becomes lighter. The grip loosens. What once defined the moment no longer defines us.
So if there is something you are carrying right now, something that never received the resolution you hoped for, begin there. Bring it honestly before God.
Even if all you can say is that you are not ready to let it go, but you no longer want it to hold you in the same way. That, too, is a faithful beginning.
Grace and peace,
Pastor M@
