Entry 34- Forgiving Yourself & Moving On: God Already Did

Have you ever replayed a mistake so many times that you convince yourself that God must be tired of you? Because same. I’ve spent sleepless nights analysing my worst decisions, listing all the ways I “should have known better.” The overthinking? Olympic-level. The guilt? Heavy. And the worst part? I believed I had to earn my way back to grace.

Have you ever sent a text and immediately regretted it?  Or maybe you trusted someone you knew wasn’t good for you (but they had nice teeth and a deep voice, so… mistakes were made).

The regret hits, and suddenly, you’re playing back every dumb decision like a personal highlight reel of shame. I’ve been there—thinking, How could I have been so blind? So naive? So… me?

And that’s when guilt creeps in. Not just any guilt—the kind that sticks, making you feel like you have to prove to God that you’re sorry before He takes you seriously.

But then I read 1 John 1:9:

"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness."

So, let me get this straight—God forgives instantly, but I’m over here acting like I need to serve 3-5 business years of guilt before I can move on? Make it make sense please.

The problem isn’t that God won’t forgive us. It’s that we think we need to “suffer” a little longer before we deserve it. But grace doesn’t work like that.

Think about Peter. He denied Jesus three times. That’s a friendship-ending, block-worthy offence. But instead of canceling Peter, Jesus restored him (John 21:15-17) and still trusted him with His work.

If Jesus wasn’t holding it against Peter, why was I still holding my own mistakes against myself?

How to Move On (For Real, This Time)

1. Accept God’s Forgiveness. Stop treating it like a store credit you’re afraid to use. If He says you’re washed clean, believe Him.

2. Learn from It, Don’t Live in It. Spent money you shouldn’t have? Okay, now you know. Fell for the wrong person (again)? Lesson learned. Growth > guilt.

3. Stop Letting Shame Narrate Your Life. Your bad decisions don’t define you. You are NOT your worst moment. You are who God says you are—loved, chosen, redeemed. Period!

Your past doesn’t disqualify you. God already forgave you—now it’s time to forgive yourself.

A Prayer for Forgiving Yourself

Lord, I surrender my past mistakes to You. Help me to stop replaying what You have already erased. Remind me that I am not my failures but Your child, covered in grace. Thank You for fresh starts and second chances. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 33- Forgiving and Letting Go of What Broke Me.

So this post has been a long time coming- don't read too much into it, there's a testimony in here & I hope you find it.

Anyways......

I thought he was the one. You know—the fairytale, the answered prayer, the "choose day bae" (IYKYK lol), the “God when?” testimony in the making. But instead, he became the heartbreak I never saw coming. The kind that leaves you replaying every moment, questioning every decision, and wondering if love was even real (for over a year).

At first, I told myself I had moved on. I blocked, deleted, and even gave myself an imaginary TED Talk about “self-worth and new beginnings.” But deep down, I wasn’t free—I was just pretending to be. My heart still carried the weight of betrayal, the sting of broken promises, and the silent resentment that whispered, How could he do this to me, a whole me you know (who did I think I was please)?

Then God stepped in.

Let’s be honest—forgiveness was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted justice. I wanted an apology, a dramatic realization on his part, and maybe a billboard that said, “I messed up and she was the best thing that ever happened to me.” But instead, God gave me Ephesians 4:31-32:

"Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you."

"God, like let's be so for real right now."

"Forgive him? After what he did?"

(This is part of a legit conversation I had with our Father) 

But here’s what I learned—forgiveness isn’t about them. It’s about you. It’s about releasing yourself from the chains of what happened so you can step into the future God has for you. I was letting my feelings dictate my healing, when God was calling me to walk by His truth.

My emotions screamed, He doesn’t deserve forgiveness! But my spirit whispered, Neither do you, yet God forgave you anyway.

Forgiveness wasn’t about making sense of the hurt—it was about trusting God with it. I had to let go of my own understanding (Proverbs 3:5-6) and lean into the truth that God would heal what was broken, whether or not I got closure.

So I prayed (more like lamented- thank God for my support system because what they had to hear, whew). Not a cute, polished, Christian-girl prayer, but a real, raw, "God, I don’t want to forgive him, but I need You more than I need my anger" kind of prayer. And little by little, the weight lifted. The bitterness faded. And where there was once pain, there was peace.

Letting go isn’t forgetting. It’s choosing freedom over bitterness. And sometimes, the closure we need isn’t an apology—it’s trusting that God’s plan is greater than the pain we’ve endured.

If you're currently dealing with a type of hurt you don't think you can forgive, say this prayer,

Lord, I give You the hurt I’ve held onto for too long. I lay down my pain, my disappointment, and my desire for justice. Teach me to forgive as You have forgiven me. Lead me in Your truth, not my emotions. Fill my heart with peace, and help me to trust that You are writing a better story for me. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 32- To Err is Human, to Forgive Is?

For years, I held onto grudges like they were my birthright—proudly replaying the offense in my head, perfecting my imaginary comebacks. I told myself I wasn’t bitter; I was just holding people accountable. But truthfully? I was just marinating in resentment, and it was exhausting.

grudges feel Like protection, but they’re a Prison

I thought holding onto anger was a form of self-defence. If I let go, wouldn’t that mean they “won”? Wouldn’t that make me weak? But then I read Matthew 6:14-15: "For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins."

Yikes.

So here I was, refusing to forgive my cousin for stealing my doll in 19xx (shall we not expose our ages here please), meanwhile, God was looking at me like, "Sis, you still expect me to forgive you daily?"

And let’s talk about relationships—because if I had a Cedi for every time I held a grudge against an ex, I could fund a small vacation. I thought staying mad kept me in control. In reality, it just kept me stuck. Meanwhile, he was out there living his best life, oblivious, while I was still drafting imaginary text responses in my head (Foolish! I thank God for His Grace everyday).

I used to think forgiveness meant pretending it didn’t happen. Nope. Forgiveness doesn’t mean you have to send them a Christmas card or invite them to brunch. It means you stop carrying their mistake around like emotional baggage.

Take Peter, for example. He denied Jesus three times- one, two, three times! If Jesus had held grudges like I did, Peter would’ve been excommunicated from the disciples' WhatsApp group. But instead, Jesus restored him (John 21:15-17). That’s real grace.

The same applied to my past relationships. I had to forgive—not for them, but for me. Because dragging resentment into new situations is like bringing expired milk to a fresh cup of coffee. It just ruins everything.

Letting go, finding freedom

When I finally let go, I realised how much lighter I felt. No more plotting petty revenge scenarios in the shower. No more mental replays of that one time someone shaded me in a group chat. Just freedom. And the best part? God’s love filled the spaces that anger used to occupy.

Lord, help me to let go of grudges that keep me bound. Teach me to forgive as You have forgiven me. Fill my heart with grace, and replace bitterness with love. And if someone still owes me money, remind me that You are my provider. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 31- The (Not So Little) Excuses Christians Make

Faith, Accountability & The Excuses We Love

We say we want to grow, but do we really? Or do we just have really good excuses? You know the ones—the ones that sound spiritual but are just a cover for avoiding responsibility. Let’s break them down.

"God is still working on me."

Translation: I refuse to change.
Yes, growth is a process, but that’s no excuse to stay the same. Paul asks, "Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase?" (Romans 6:1-2). Spoiler: The answer is no.

"This is just how I am."

Translation: I don’t want to grow.
If Moses, Paul, and Peter could change, so can you. Isaiah 64:8 reminds us, "We are the clay, you are the potter." Let God reshape you.

"God knows my heart."

Translation: I don’t need to apologise.
Yes, and that’s exactly why you should be concerned. Jeremiah 17:9 says, "The heart is deceitful above all things." Instead, pray Psalm 139:23-24—"Search me, God, and know my heart."

"I’m waiting on God."

Translation: I’m avoiding responsibility.
Waiting is biblical, but sometimes it’s procrastination. In Exodus 14:15, God told Moses, "Why are you crying out to me? Tell the Israelites to move on!" Maybe it’s time for you to do the same.

"The enemy is attacking me."

Translation: I don’t want to take responsibility.
Yes, spiritual warfare is real, but not everything is an attack. James 1:14-15 reminds us, "Each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire." Own your part.

So, What Now?

Excuses keep us stuck. True growth requires us to surrender, take responsibility, and allow God to refine us. No more hiding behind spiritual phrases—let’s move forward.

Are you ready to stop making excuses? Let’s go forward.

Dear Lord, help me to recognise when I’m making excuses instead of growing. Give me the courage to take responsibility, the humility to change, and the wisdom to walk in obedience. Shape me into who You’ve called me to be. In Jesus’ name, Amen.