The Lifestyle of Forgiveness

Forgiveness isn’t a one-time choice. It’s a cruciform life.

Many years ago, I was unfaithful to my husband. He chose to take me back—and that was only the beginning.

Forgiveness is not forgetting. It's not moving on.

It's choosing love in the midst of anger, sadness, and the ache of what could have been, should have been.

He had every right to feel angry—to honor the injustice, to name what was violated.

He grieved. There was deep sadness and real loss: of trust, of the story we wish we had built together.

Yet, he stayed.

He walked through the pain with me. And every time the fear returned, every time a trigger hit or trust felt shaky, he didn’t pretend. He chose again. We continue to talk about it, even after 21 years. Process what he is feeling, what I am feeling. Come back to reality to see it’s not the same as the past.
My husband allowed for reconciliation, insisting God help him forgive me, and it wasn’t passive—it was active. Costly. Christ-like.

I have watched my husband live agape love—the kind that suffers without bitterness, that hopes without guarantee, that mirrors Christ’s own words:
“Father, forgive them…”

Forgiveness is not weakness. It takes incredible willingness to suffer. It is sanctifying.
It is a daily death to resentment and fear, a daily “yes” to love.

Our marriage still bears scars. But the wounds no longer define us—they’ve become altars where grace keeps showing up.

If you’re walking through betrayal, or loving someone through it, you are not alone.

Forgiveness doesn’t erase the cross.

But it leads to resurrection every time.

Blog by: Beth Carrell