Teach Me, Lord, to Forgive
Matthew 5:44 NKJV
“But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you.”
A lot of people are going to be outraged by my poem, by my prayer, by the words I use and the anger behind them.
But the Lord understands my pain, and He understands my words.
He does not ask me to come to Him polished, composed, and pretending everything is fine. He wants me to come to Him where I am. Hurt. Angry. Confused. Resentful. Exhausted. Still trying.
The Lord wants you.
He is not hiding from you, and He does not want you hiding from Him behind false niceties.
If you are suffering, you do not have to stop in the middle of your pain and say, “Sorry, Lord, I cussed,” as though the word matters more to Him than the wound underneath it.
That is not the kind of Lord we have.
He already knows what is in your heart. He already knows the anger, the grief, the bitterness, the fear, and the love buried underneath all of it.
That’s not asking God to make you fake-nice. It’s asking Him to change the atmosphere, starting with what’s inside you.
Loving someone does not mean allowing them unlimited access to hurt you. Matthew 5:44 calls you toward love, not toward becoming everybody’s emotional punching bag, because apparently humanity needed that distinction spelled out.
“Lord, I hear what You’re telling me to do. I do not currently feel capable of doing it. Teach me how without letting me be destroyed in the process.”
Teach Me, Lord
How do I show love
to the ones I despise?
How do I understand,
escape all the lies?
The ones that I despise,
my children, shit you not.
If it were up to them,
I'd lie in here and rot.
Rot and roll
is what I do.
Rock and roll
is in my soul.
Broken body,
broken down.
Kids treat me
like a fucking clown.
So how do I
turn this around?
How do I show
love abound?
Teach me, Lord.
Guide my way.
This is what
I need, I pray.
The cycle's not changing.
The cycle's not changing.
There's no rearranging
this twisted dysfunction I live.
My daughters are here,
but they are not near.
A relationship so gray,
it's not clear.
What are my roles?
What is your job?
Which one of us
is really the slob?
Why don't we work
in unison, in group?
Be a family,
we'll write a book
on chicken soup.
So teach me, O Lord,
to love what I asked.
A mom I desired,
not in the past.
Show me, my Lord,
resentment go away.
Show me a mother's love
designed to stay.
Help me envelop them
in all that they need,
but don't let them cut me
so much that I bleed,
to where I can't function,
can't live, can't promote
their futures, their lives.
They want me remote.
I don't know the answer.
I don't know, I fear.
But with Your guidance,
we can wipe out this smear
of disgust, of behavior,
of filth, spewed out.
Fill this house with love
to where it's impossible to doubt.
Amen.
#FaithJourney #PrayerLife #ChristianEncouragement #Lemon8Diary #RealTalk
Forgiveness is often regarded as one of the most challenging yet transformative acts we can undertake in our spiritual and personal lives. This prayerful poem beautifully captures the raw emotions involved in seeking to forgive, especially when hurt comes from those closest to us, like family. From my own experience, I’ve found that forgiveness is not about denying our pain or pretending everything is fine; rather, it’s about bringing that pain honestly before God and asking Him to help us let go in a way that promotes healing rather than destruction. Matthew 5:44, which calls us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us, is a powerful but demanding scripture. It challenges us to extend grace, even when our hearts are heavy with resentment or confusion. For me, the journey toward forgiveness has involved many moments of vulnerability—admitting my anger, my brokenness, and my desire for peace. I’ve learned that God welcomes us just as we are—hurt, angry, exhausted—and He does not require a polished façade. In times when family relationships are strained, it can feel impossible to love unconditionally. The poem’s honest expression of feeling despised or mistreated resonates deeply with those who have experienced family dysfunction or emotional pain. Yet, it also holds space for hope—a hope that through God’s guidance, cycles of hurt can be broken, and love can become the foundation where doubt and resentment once kept us apart. Practically speaking, forgiving does not mean allowing others to continue hurting us. It’s about setting healthy boundaries while choosing to release bitterness that weighs us down. Prayer becomes a vital tool in this process, inviting divine strength to heal wounds and restore relationships in God’s timing. If you’re struggling to forgive, consider sharing your honest feelings with God in prayer. Like the poem’s author, you don’t have to be 'fake-nice' or hide your true emotions. Speak your pain openly and ask God to teach you how to love without losing yourself. Healing may come gradually, but with patience and faith, it is possible to find a new atmosphere within—one filled with love, peace, and hope for the future.