"How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, Israel? How can I treat you like Admah? How can I make you like Zeboyim? My heart is changed within me; all my compassion is aroused. I will not carry out my fierce anger, nor will I devastate Ephraim again. For I am God, and not a man— the Holy One among you. I will not come in wrath."
— Oséias 11:8-9
There are wounds that seem indelible. That word that cut so deep, the abandonment we never forgot, the betrayal of someone we loved. And when someone asks for our forgiveness, our heart often cries out: "No! You don't deserve it." In this moment, you may be carrying a hurt that weighs like lead on your soul, and the possibility of forgiving seems impossible. But today, God wants to whisper something radical to your heart.
Hosea lived the most painful experience: his people constantly rejected him, turned away, worshipped other gods. By human standards, God would have every right to abandon them. But when the prophet hears God's voice, he discovers something extraordinary: even in the face of systematic rejection, God's heart is moved with compassion. Literally, His innermost being is stirred with mercy. The Hebrew word "rachamim" (compassion) comes from the same root as "womb"—it is a visceral, maternal love that cannot let go.
The key lies in the final phrase: "I am God, and not a man." Here rests all the difference. As human beings, our compassion has limits. We are wounded, we are offended, we hold onto resentment. But God transcends this fragility. He does not operate by the logic of retaliation or deserving. His nature is to forgive—not because the other person deserves it, but because He cannot do otherwise—because it is who He is. This is the essence of God: a Being whose love is superior to justice, whose mercy triumphs over judgment.
This Friday, God invites you to a revolutionary step. It is not about denying the pain you suffered or pretending everything is fine. It is about recognizing that holding onto bitterness is slowly killing you while the other person moves on with their life. Forgiveness is not an act of weakness—it is the strongest act you can make, because it requires you to die to the desire for revenge and rise again in the nature of Christ. When you forgive, you do not only set the other person free: you free yourself.
Today, allow the Holy Spirit to touch those open wounds. Talk to God about it. He does not want you to pretend you are fine; He wants you to be honest about the pain and still choose to let go. This choice, repeated a thousand times if necessary, is the path to freedom.