Make allowance for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds us all together in perfect harmony. And let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts. For as members of one body you are called to live in peace. And always be thankful.
Colossians 3:13-15

My eyes narrowed, and I shot back, “What is that supposed to mean?”

It turns out, whatever had been said, my husband had not meant to offend me. But it seemed that, as of late, it was as if I was looking to be offended. We moved on with simple apologies—sorry for how I came across, sorry for assuming the worst—and an assurance that, “I’m fine,” but did I really take time to deal with my heart?

Later, as I read Colossians 3, I was struck by verses 12–15: “Since God chose you to be the holy people he loves, you must clothe yourselves with tenderhearted mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Make allowance for each other’s faults and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds us all together in perfect harmony. And let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts. For as members of one body, you are called to live in peace. And always be thankful.”

Ah. I was doing the opposite of making allowance for others’ faults. I was finding faults and imagining offenses. I was letting little things—a slight, a harsh word, an ill-timed joke, a miscommunication, a dashed expectation—build one upon the other. I didn’t feel like I was living in unforgiveness, but an examination of my heart might tell me otherwise.

It was like death by a thousand paper cuts. Alone, each small thing, ignored or pushed to the side, wasn’t a big deal. But added together, they were crowding out the truth. But Colossians says to “remember…”

Remember! The truth is, I am loved. I am forgiven. Christ’s forgiveness of all my offenses, every sin of every kind, was both costly and life-giving. Sometimes, I forget this truth, though. I forget that I can live forgiven. God has not just invited me to reflect that same forgiveness to others. He has commanded it.

During Lent, we have been stripping back some of the noise in our lives, making space to remember and rediscover the work of Christ and to repent and return to him.

First, I must remember the truth and receive his forgiveness anew. I am forgiven.

Then, I must examine my life and heart for the signs of unforgiveness. Where am I seeking fault instead of making allowance for it? Is there evidence of bitterness and unresolved pain, disappointment, or anger? Attend to those places. Surrender them to God’s care and control.

Finally, I must do the work of forgiveness. Forgiving another who has wronged us (real or perceived) requires a dying to self and a surrendering of our own “rights” for the sake of grace and peace. But doing the work of forgiveness is also life-giving. God’s forgiveness literally gives us life—taking us from condemned to free. We are invited to share that new life and to experience its freedom as we learn to forgive as he forgave us.

My prayer for this Lent season is that I—and you–will take the time to remember who we are in Christ and to put that into practice for his glory and our transformation and healing. And next time, when I’m tempted to take offense, I pray that I will clothe myself with love and believe the best instead, guarding against a heart of unforgiveness.

–Written by Melissa Lewis