Learning To Forgive

I remember the year, though I wish I didn’t, A chapter I buried but still somehow live in. I laid it before You, the worst of my shame, And You washed it away, but I kept the stain. I’ve spoken the prayers and I’ve whispered the sorrow, But some wounds wake up again every tomorrow. You lifted the weight, but I pick it back up— Still learning to rest in a grace strong enough. You forgave me in a moment, With a mercy I can’t outrun. But I’m still learning how to forgive me— For the things I can’t undo or outrun. If grace is a river, Lord, I’m standing in the shallows— Teach my trembling heart to let it flow. I’ve carried this weight like a stone in my pocket, A silent confession I never could drop yet. But You keep reminding me, softly and steady, “That burden was mine the day you said you were ready.” You’re teaching me slowly that healing takes time, That mercy’s not fragile and love’s not a lie. So help me believe what You already see— A sinner set free learning how to be free. I know Your love is stronger Than the memories I fear. So hold me a little longer Till the healing feels sincere. You say the past is finished, You say Your grace is real— So teach my heart to trust You And finally learn to heal. You forgave me in a moment, With a grace I can’t comprehend. So I’ll keep learning to forgive me Until my heart believes again. If mercy is a river, then lead me to the deep— Where even my own shadows fall asleep.