Good morning, friends.

Over the past few weeks we’ve been reflecting on what happens as we remain close to Jesus. We begin noticing people the way He notices them. We discover that compassion flows from abiding. We even find ourselves loving people we never imagined we could love because His love begins flowing through us.

As I prayed about this week’s devotional, I realized there is something else that quietly shapes our ability to reflect the heart of Christ.

It’s the condition of our own hearts.

Not long ago, I found myself thinking about a season that was both beautiful and incredibly painful. Someone I deeply loved had become a close friend and ministry partner. We shared dreams, prayed together, and served the Lord side by side. Never in a million years would I have imagined that one day our relationship would become one of the deepest sources of grief in my life.

Like so many broken relationships, there wasn’t one dramatic moment that ended everything. There were misunderstandings, hurts, and conversations that never happened. I kept hoping there would be an opportunity to sit down together, to understand one another, and somehow find our way back.

But that day never came.

What I didn’t realize at first was how much emotional space that unresolved hurt was occupying in my heart. I wasn’t just carrying disappointment anymore. I was carrying it everywhere I went. It would quietly surface at unexpected moments, replaying conversations in my mind and reminding me of what had been lost.

It felt as though the wound was slowly poisoning places in my heart that had once been full of joy.

One morning during prayer, I sensed Jesus gently asking me a question.

“Tammy…will you trust Me with what she may never be able to give you?”

I sat quietly with that question for a long time.

Because if I was honest, I was still waiting.

Waiting for understanding.

Waiting for an apology.

Waiting for things to be made right.

Instead, Jesus was inviting me to release something I had been holding with tightly closed hands.

Not because what happened didn’t matter.

It mattered deeply.

But because He loved me too much to let that wound become my home.

Scripture Reading

Matthew 18:21-35 (NLT)
Ephesians 4:31-32 (NIV)

Pause and Reflect

As I sat with these passages this week, I was struck by how often we think forgiveness is primarily about another person. We imagine it’s about whether they apologized, whether they changed, or whether the relationship was restored.

But as I continued praying, I realized Jesus was speaking to something much closer to home.

He was speaking to my own heart.

For a long time, I believed I couldn’t really move forward until that relationship was healed. I kept waiting for a conversation that never came, hoping one day everything would finally make sense.

Instead, Jesus invited me to stop waiting for someone else to give me what only He could.

That doesn’t mean what happened suddenly became okay.

It wasn’t okay.

The hurt was real.

The grief was real.

The loss was real.

And I don’t believe Jesus ever asks us to pretend otherwise.

What He did invite me to do was place that hurt into His hands.

I’ve come to realize that forgiveness and reconciliation are not the same thing.
Sometimes, by God’s grace, relationships are restored.
Sometimes they aren’t.

Reconciliation requires humility, repentance, trust, and two willing hearts.

Forgiveness begins with one willing heart that says, “Jesus, I trust You with what I cannot change.”

It doesn’t mean we stop grieving.

It doesn’t mean healthy boundaries disappear.

It doesn’t mean consequences are removed.

It simply means we stop carrying alone what Jesus has been inviting us to bring to Him all along.

When I finally began releasing that relationship into His hands, something unexpected happened. The circumstances didn’t immediately change.

But I did.

The bitterness that had quietly begun taking root no longer had the same hold on me. The wound didn’t disappear overnight, but little by little, Jesus began healing places I couldn’t reach on my own. The peace I had been waiting to receive from another person was waiting for me in His presence all along.

I think that’s why Paul tells us to “get rid of all bitterness.” Not because bitterness only hurts the people around us, but because it quietly steals our own joy, our own peace, and our ability to receive the love Jesus longs to pour into our hearts.

As you spend a few quiet moments with Jesus today, consider these questions:

• Is there a hurt, disappointment, or broken relationship you’ve been carrying for longer than you realized?
• Are you waiting for someone else to do something before allowing Jesus to begin healing your heart?
• What would it look like to open your hands today and entrust that wound to Him?
• Where might Jesus be inviting you to receive His peace, even if reconciliation never comes?

If you’re carrying the weight of deep trauma or abuse, please know that bringing your hurt to Jesus and seeking wise, trusted support can go hand in hand. Healing often happens through His presence, His Word, and the caring people He places around us.

Soul Care Practice – Open Hands

Find a quiet place where you won’t be interrupted for a few minutes. Sit comfortably and place your hands on your lap with your fists gently closed.

Think about the hurt, disappointment, grief, or relationship you’ve been carrying. Don’t rush past it or pretend it isn’t there. Simply acknowledge it before Jesus.

As you slowly open your hands, pray something like this:

“Jesus, You already know what happened, and You know how deeply it has affected me. Today, I choose to place this hurt into Your hands. I’m not pretending it didn’t matter, and I’m not saying it no longer hurts. I’m simply acknowledging that I cannot carry it alone anymore.”

Sit quietly for a few moments with your hands open.

If forgiveness feels difficult, don’t force it. Instead, simply tell Jesus the truth.

“I’m willing to become willing. Lord, move in my heart and enable me to do what only You can make possible. Help me trust You with what I cannot change, and begin healing the places in my heart that only You can reach.”

Before you leave this time of prayer, invite Him to give you whatever gift He has for you in exchange as you release your thoughts and feelings to Him. Thank Him that He is gentle with your heart and faithful to complete the healing He has begun, even when it takes time.

Carry It With You

As you go through this week, notice when that familiar hurt begins to surface again. You may replay an old conversation, feel a wave of sadness, or find yourself wishing things had turned out differently.

Rather than following those thoughts where they lead, let them become an invitation to return to Jesus.

If you’re able, simply open your hands for a moment and quietly pray,

“Jesus, I’m giving this back to You.”

You may need to pray that prayer once.

You may need to pray it a hundred times.

Each time you do, you’re reminding your heart that healing doesn’t come from carrying the burden longer. It comes from bringing it back to the One who lovingly carries it with you.

As you practice opening your hands this week, don’t measure your progress by whether the pain immediately disappears. Instead, notice whether your heart is becoming a little softer, your thoughts a little freer, and your trust in Jesus a little deeper.

Prayer

Jesus,

Thank You for being so patient with our hearts. You know every wound we’ve carried, every disappointment we’ve tried to make sense of, and every relationship that has left us grieving what once was. Nothing about our story is hidden from You.

Today, we bring our hurts into Your presence once again. Some of them are fresh, and some have been tucked away for years. We confess that we’ve often carried them longer than You ever intended, hoping that if we held on tightly enough, somehow things would finally be made right.

Teach us to trust You with what we cannot change.

Where bitterness has quietly begun to take root, replace it with Your peace. Where grief still lingers, surround us with Your comfort. Where forgiveness feels impossible, help us become willing to take the next step with You. Continue healing our hearts in the gentle, faithful way that only You can.

Thank You that You never ask us to walk this journey alone. You are our Shepherd, our Healer, and the One who restores our souls. As we open our hands before You, help us receive the freedom, peace, and hope You long to give.

May our lives continue to reflect Your love because we remain close to You.

In Your precious name, Amen.

Until Next Monday…

Thank you for spending a little time with me today.

As you go into this week, don’t be discouraged if you find yourself placing the same hurt back into Jesus’ hands more than once. Healing is often a journey rather than a single moment, and our gracious Savior is never impatient with the process. Each time you return to Him, you’re choosing trust over striving and hope over despair.

My prayer is that you’ll discover the quiet freedom that comes from opening your hands to the One who has been holding you all along.

I’ll meet you back here next Monday. Until then, may your heart continue to find rest, healing, and peace as you remain rooted in His love and reflect His grace to the world around you.