Even when you're sure... they don't deserve it
do it anyway
Senior year, I stood on a theater stage in front of a hundred moody teenagers and told my story. It was May 14, 2016. Was I scared? Definitely. Back then, my strides were always faster than the Flash whenever I saw people. So how did I find the courage? Jesus. What I remember most from that day isn’t the bright lights or the nerves. It was a girl who stopped me right before we walked into the cafeteria for some good Caribbean food. She paused and said: “You know… your story touched me.” We had a plays, dances, and singing and... when the red curtains closed, a forgiveness story stayed with her. It still blows my mind till this day. The truth is, not a part of me wanted to forgive the bullies. Every day on the bus, I’d pray: God, this is hard. I don’t know how to do this. But I’m choosing to believe this isn’t the end of me. Anger won’t be the thing that keeps me going. Everything around me—movies, shows, even my own thoughts—told me to get revenge, to humiliate them the way they humiliated me. But that simple verse from Exodus kept me steady for years: “I will fight for you, and you shall be silent.” Holding onto it helped me believe God wasn’t indifferent. He saw it all. He was already fighting for me. That promise became my anchor when I wanted to explode. And no, it wasn’t passivity. It looked weak on the outside, maybe even stupid. But it was surrender, not to the situation, but to Him. Because at the end of the day, when someone looks down on your value, it usually means there’s a crack in their own life. It has nothing to do with you. I didn’t know that at the time, but looking back now I know: letting go was the best decision I could’ve made. Somewhere along the way, I realized I didn’t have the hunger to make them pay. Forgiving came slowly, not overnight. This doesn’t excuse what they did. Not even close. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt or that their words didn’t shape me for more than a decade. But here’s the wild part: it set me free. Ask me their names or what they look like? I can’t even remember. It’s a blur. What I have now is peace. And whatever someone says about me today, their words don’t carry the same weight. Only God’s words have that kind of authority over me. Forgiving them didn’t just help me breathe again. It stopped me from exploding on the people who loved me. My sisters, my brother, my family. That red crimson anger, the ticking time bomb I kept swallowing? It had to go. Because I didn’t want those people to still control my life, my decisions, my peace. Here’s the thing: God is both Love and Justice. And when I got the full picture, I had to forgive even when my feelings screamed: ''No, Lynn! they don’t deserve it." Because justice is what protects us, especially when we don’t see it play out in real time. Over and over, His love and justice work together for us. So we don’t have to get even ourselves. He’ll take care of it.
Heart Call:
We can let go when we see God’s full picture: Love and Justice. And the beauty of it is that we don’t take that step alone.
Even when you’re sure they don’t deserve it, He walks with you.
What’s one step toward forgiveness could you take this week?
Where have you let someone else’s opinion shape your worth more than God’s voice?