Forgiveness is...

Since I was a child, there has been a particular narrative playing in my mind about my own story. It was a story filled with blame. The phrases replayed over and over in my thoughts: “I was chewing on the string.” “I disobeyed.” “It was my fault.” Even though the accident happened when I was only four years old, the weight of responsibility somehow attached itself to my heart. Those quiet accusations followed me as I grew up, tying shame to the scars on my body and shaping the way I saw my story.

But those accusations were never from God.

They were lies.

Scripture tells us that the enemy is the father of lies (John 8:44), and one of the ways he works most subtly is by attaching shame to wounds so that we carry burdens we were never meant to hold. For years, the Lord was gently trying to break those lies off of my life. He was trying to move me from a place where I believed I was the problem into a place where I could see His mercy and purpose woven through my story.

Over time, I reached a place where I truly accepted my story. In fact, I began to love it. I love the journey God has taken me on, and I even adore my scars because they now tell a story of survival, healing, and the faithfulness of God. Yet even after embracing my story outwardly, there was still something buried deep within my heart. There was pain that had been suppressed for years, pain that forgiveness had not fully touched yet. God knew it was there, and He was inviting me deeper. Hebrews 12:15 warns us to see that no bitter root grows within us, and God was revealing that there was still a root hidden in my heart that needed to be pulled out. It was time to release the final pieces of shame I had been holding onto and step fully into the life God had been preparing for me.

On March 19, 2023, I made a decision that terrified me. I forgave myself, and I forgave the dress.

For years, the dress connected to my accident had existed in my mind as something far greater than fabric. It had become a symbol of pain, blame, and unanswered questions. So I did something that felt almost impossible: I ordered a copy of the dress on eBay. When I clicked the purchase button, my heart was racing. I didn’t even want the dress sent to my house. Instead, I had it mailed to a friend’s house in Pennsylvania, and he held onto it until I arrived.

Truthfully, I didn’t want to face it at all. But I felt the Lord prompting me clearly. John 8:36 says, “So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” I knew God was leading me toward freedom, even though the path there felt painful.

I also knew I didn’t want to face that moment alone. My friend offered to come with me to the church prayer room early in the morning before he went to work so he could be there with me. I will never forget that morning. I walked into the church while the sun was barely rising, the building quiet and still. I went into the prayer room, turned on worship music, and sat down.

Almost immediately, I collapsed onto the floor.

The presence of God filled the room so heavily that I could barely stay upright. Tears began pouring out of me as years of suppressed emotion surfaced all at once. Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit,” and in that moment I felt the nearness of God in a way I cannot fully describe.

Through my tears, I grabbed a notebook and began writing a prayer. I had no intention of sharing it with anyone. I thought it would simply stay between God and me on the pages of my journal. But when I finished writing, my friend gently held my hand and told me to say it out loud.

I was shaking so much that I could barely speak. My voice trembled through tears as I read the words I had just written: “Today, Lord, I want and plead for complete restoration. Sitting in Your overwhelming presence, I accept Your complete restoration of my soul and my life. I hold the thing that has held me captive for too long—the thing I have let define me—the dress. Today I hold it and say thank You for using it to transform me. Today I forgive it for harming me. I forgive myself for disobeying. I forgive the company that made it. I forgive those who hurt me because of the harm it caused. And I say, Jesus, it is Yours. This is the day I declare freedom over it.”

As I spoke the words aloud, I found myself adding more through tears, crying out to God to restore every broken place in my heart. Something shifted in that room. James 5:16 reminds us that when we confess and pray with one another, healing begins, and that morning healing began flooding my heart. We finished our time by praying for each other, deeper and more vulnerably than we ever had before.

Before leaving, my friend looked at me and told me he was proud of me. He said he could see the change happening in me even in that moment. I thanked him and reached for the dress to take it with me, but he stopped me. He took the dress from my hands and said, “No. I’m not letting you take that. I don’t want you to do something that could hurt you again.”

At the time, I didn’t realize what that meant. But that moment became something remarkable, because that was the last time I ever saw that dress. I never got it back. For years before that moment I had searched for it online, trying to buy it again just so I could confront it or get rid of it. But after that day, I never needed it again.

The story, however, did not end there. Just a few weeks later, that same friend ended our friendship. The pain of that loss hit me deeply, and for a time it clouded the memory of that powerful moment. What had once felt sacred suddenly felt tangled with hurt. I allowed the pain of the broken friendship to place a veil over what God had done that morning.

But God was not finished teaching me about forgiveness.

Forgiveness is rarely a one-time act. Often it is a process of surrendering the same wound again and again until it no longer controls our hearts. Colossians 3:13 calls us to forgive as the Lord forgave us, and the Lord walked me through forgiving that pain as well. As I released the hurt from the broken friendship, the veil over that memory lifted. I could once again see the moment clearly for what it truly was: a holy encounter with God.

That day in the prayer room changed me forever. As I cried on that church floor, it felt as though something physically shattered inside my chest. Every tear felt like a piece of shame leaving my body. Matthew 11:28 says, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest,” and that morning I laid down a burden I had been carrying for nearly twenty years.

I walked out of that church lighter. Freer. Smiling in a way I hadn’t in a long time.

Even now, when I think about it, I still smile.

Because the blame and shame no longer own that part of my story. When I share my testimony today, I can call it what it truly was: an accident. Not punishment. Not failure. Not something I deserved. Just an accident that God redeemed.

The enemy tried to steal my life that day. John 10:10 tells us that the thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy, but Jesus came so that we may have life abundantly. On May 13, the enemy tried to steal, kill, and destroy. In many ways he did steal pieces of my heart for nearly twenty years. But God had the final word.

Scripture promises in Joel 2:25, “I will restore the years the locusts have eaten.” And He did.

Freedom, I have learned, is allowing pain to surface so that God can heal it. Freedom is releasing what has hurt you so that God can replace it with peace. Freedom is refusing to let the enemy continue stealing pieces of your life, even in the smallest ways. It may hurt in the moment, but the healing, peace, and joy that follow are immeasurable. As 2 Corinthians 3:17 reminds us, “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.”

If there is something in your past that still whispers blame or shame, let God have it. Let Him move in the places you have been afraid to open. Let Him heal the wounds you thought would never close. Because you were never meant to carry that pain alone. God does not simply save souls; He restores hearts.

And that freedom is available for you too.

So if you take anything away from my story, let it be this:

Freedom is not only possible BUT IS AVAILABLE.

Not because we are strong enough to heal ourselves, but because God is faithful enough to restore what has been broken. Scripture tells us that “where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom” (2 Corinthians 3:17). That freedom is not just spiritual—it reaches into the deepest wounds of our lives.

Maybe your “dress” looks different than mine.

Maybe it’s a memory.

Maybe it’s a mistake.

Maybe it’s something someone said to you years ago that you still believe about yourself.

Maybe it’s shame.

But whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it anymore.

Psalm 147:3 says, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” That promise is not reserved for a few people with dramatic testimonies. It is available for every heart willing to bring its pain before God.

So here is my invitation to you.

Take a moment today and ask God to reveal anything you are still holding onto. Ask Him if there is a place in your story where blame, shame, or unforgiveness has taken root. And when He shows you—because He is gentle enough to do so—bring it to Him.

Lay it down.

Speak forgiveness out loud if you need to.

Let the tears come if they must.

Healing often begins where honesty meets surrender.

You might be surprised how much lighter your heart feels when you finally release what God never intended for you to carry.

Because freedom is not found in pretending the pain never existed.

Freedom is found in placing it into the hands of the One who can redeem it.

And if He could restore twenty years of my story…

He can restore yours too.