What Unforgiveness Has Been Costing You
Unforgiveness rarely begins as bitterness.
It begins as protection.
A quiet decision to stay guarded.
To not risk again.
To keep control where trust once hurt.
At first, it feels wise.
You are not as exposed.
Not as vulnerable.
Not as easily disappointed.
But over time, something else happens.
What was meant to protect you begins to ask more of you.
Energy is spent remembering.
Distance is maintained carefully.
Walls require upkeep.
You may not feel angry anymore.
You may feel calm, composed, even healed.
Yet something feels strangely heavy.
Unforgiveness does not shout.
It drains.
It narrows emotional range.
It limits closeness.
It keeps love from fully resting.
Not because you are unforgiving by nature,
but because staying open once cost too much.
Often, unforgiveness is not about punishing someone else.
It is about preventing yourself from being hurt again.
But what protects the heart from pain
can also protect it from life.
You may notice it in subtle ways:
joy that feels muted,
connection that stays surface-level,
a weariness you cannot quite explain.
This message is not asking you to forgive.
It is not calling you to reconcile.
It is not telling you what to do.
It is only naming what has been quietly true.
That carrying unforgiveness has required strength.
That it has taken effort to hold it in place.
And that you have been paying a cost - alone.
Not because you are wrong.
But because love was never meant to be carried this way.
And God sees the weight you have been holding - and He is holding out His arms to take it from you.

