Forgive! Really??
Forgiveness. It’s a word that sounds noble in theory but often feels impossible in practice. I know its importance, I preach it consistently, yet a recent experience brought its true cost—and power—into sharp focus.
Due to complications from what should have been a straightforward surgery, I spent weeks in hospital. I experienced disabling pain, which left me almost totally dependent on others. During that time I became acutely aware of the impact kindness has—especially at night when the pain peaked and there was little distraction from it.
One such night, I found myself crying in pain, but pain relief wasn’t due for hours. The night nurse informed me coldly she’d be back at 2 a.m. and left the room. I was overwhelmed; every movement was agony, and the long hours ahead felt unbearable.
In my distress, hoping God was actually there, I chose to listen to a song that I had found comforting. It was a hard choice, because I was so angry. But, through my tears, I sang.
As I did, I was drawn to Christ on the cross—suffering without comfort, relief, or kindness. His suffering was worse than mine, yet I was also without relief. I was weak, but I could draw on his strength. Of course I could. Then even as I experienced his presence in the pain, I heard him speak from that place:
“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”(Luke 23:34)
Then came the quiet but unmistakable question in my heart:
“Can you forgive that nurse as I’ve forgiven you?”
I wish I could say my first response was holy and obedient. It wasn’t. I wrestled with it. After all, I was the one in pain, crying in the middle of the night, paying the price of her unkindness.
But as I sat with the question, I considered my possible responses. And I knew none of them would honour God except overlooking and forgiving. Not ignoring or suppressing but choosing to let it go and pay the price as Jesus had done.
Because true forgiveness carries a cost—absorbing the hurt instead of demanding repayment. Seeing beyond the nurse’s actions to the person behind them. And in this case, I knew Jesus was asking me to overlook without referring to the incident again.
So, in the strength of the Holy Spirit, eyes on Jesus, I made that choice. I forgave her. I prayed for her before she even returned, which she did, exactly at 2 a.m., as promised. I thanked her for returning without me having to buzz.
And I knew something had changed, both in her and in me. I saw her differently—as someone created in his image, needing kindness as much as I did. And the rest of our interactions were different.
Overlooking is not avoidance, and sometimes it isn’t appropriate. But when it is, it’s an active, intentional choice to forgive. It can bring God’s peace into a relationship before conflict erupts and is one way we glorify him in daily life.
I encourage you, if you haven’t done the EveryDay Peacemaking workshop, to sign up and explore when overlooking and forgiving glorify God. And if you have done it, reflect again on Christ’s call to overlook and forgive in your own life. It could be a life-changing decision.

This article was written by Deborah Benstead.
Deborah originally trained as a Registered Nurse and Midwife, remaining in the Health Sector for some years in both clinical and public education areas. She has a Bachelor of Theology and has worked in church ministry in teaching and leadership roles. Besides her training role in PeaceWise, she also works on the Ministry Staff of St Matthews Anglican Church at Manly.