Tag Archive for: Colossians 3:13

Colossians 3:13 — Make allowance for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others.

The fall happens so fast.

One minute Forrest Frank is skateboarding with his son—laughing, being a dad—and the next he’s on the ground, staring at the sky, realizing something is really wrong.

His L3 and L4 vertebrae are fractured. It’s the kind of injury that stops everything.

Back home, laid up in bed, his body is broken—but his mind won’t slow down. So he does what he’s always done. He sings. There he wrote songs about what he knew to be true. Songs about how “God’s got my back” and about Jesus turning his problems into lemonade.

He shares his journey on Instagram. Within days, Forrest’s back is miraculously healed. Around the same time, he posts another song to encourage David Crowder, who is recovering from a broken leg.

But the internet does what the internet does.

Parody videos start popping up—some playful, some careless. One comes from Cory Asbury. Though meant to be funny, it hits hard. Forrest and his wife remember the fear and pain of that day, and suddenly it feels like one of his worst moments is being reduced to a punchline.

Then Forrest does the bravest thing he knows to do. He posts online honestly. He admits the humor hurts. He knows no harm was meant—but it still hurt.

He doesn’t stop there. Instead of clapping back, he extends the olive branch by writing Cory a song. He posts it and invites Cory to help him finish it.

Cory sees it and takes the parody down immediately. He reaches out to Forrest and apologizes over the phone. He admits he didn’t stop to put himself in Forrest’s shoes, and what happens next is amazing.

What could’ve stayed awkward turns creative. Out of that conversation, the two artist collaborate to finish the song shaped out of forgiveness.

Forrest chose to forgive Cory fully, and there’s something so powerful about that. To admit your grievances and to do the hard work of forgiveness just like Jesus. It isn’t the way of the world. It isn’t trendy. But it is Kingdom. It is what breaks down barriers and turns enemies into friends.

So let’s choose the Jesus-way of forgiveness. Even when it’s hard, bear with one another and forgive as freely as you have been forgiven—letting grace guide your steps. Refusing to let a grievance define the relationship.

Because unforgiveness doesn’t get to tell your story. So refuse to let it write the ending.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Is there someone in your life who has hurt you—even unintentionally—that you’re struggling to forgive?
  • What makes it difficult for you to “make allowance” for others’ faults instead of holding onto the offense?
  • How does remembering the way God has forgiven you change your perspective on forgiving someone else?
  • Have you ever seen a relationship restored after honesty and forgiveness? What did that teach you?
  • What would it look like for you to take one step toward forgiveness this week—whether that’s releasing it in your heart or reaching out?

L Y R I C S  for  M I S U N D E R S T O O D

One, two, three

Sometimes words
Hit you in the chest
Sting you like a bee
And rob you of your rest
And Heaven knows sometimes
People try to mean well
But trauma from their past
Got ’em stuck inside of Hell

Well, it’s okay if you feel misunderstood
There’s a Man who did as well when they nailed Him to wood
And even through all the pain
Still, He forgave them, mm
So I can forgive somebody too (Mm)

Sometimes words (Sometimes words)
Can cut so deep (Cut so deep)
It’s hard to be kind
When anger’s all you’ve seen
The shadow of home can
Stretch long through the years
It covers up the sunshine
Even when the sky is clear

‘Cause it’s okay if you feel misunderstood
There’s a Man who did as well when they nailed Him to wood
And even through all the pain
Still, He forgave them
So I can forgive somebody too (Yeah)
I can forgive somebody too (Come on)

Well, sometimes two friends are just one call away
Years full of hurt could be gone in a day
We’re all part of one family
So, who am I to cut down the tree?

‘Cause it’s okay if you feel misunderstood
There’s a Man who did as well when they nailed Him to wood
And even through all the pain
Still, He forgave them
So I can forgive somebody too
I can forgive somebody too (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
I can forgive somebody too

‘Cause the good Lord first forgave me and you
Ooh

Colossians 3:13 — Make allowance for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others.

I stir the pasta sauce on the stove and glance out the kitchen window, letting the quiet of the evening settle around me. The day had been full of people—some kind, some careless, and a few who seemed determined to push every one of my buttons.

I shake my head and laugh at myself, because I have a name for these types in my prayers. I call them sandpaper people. They scratch, they irritate, they rub you wrong without even trying, and somehow, God always seems to place them right in my path.

I breathe in slowly, the aroma of garlic and tomato mingling with the evening air, and let the tension go.

Sandpaper, I remind myself, smooths rough edges. And I have plenty. I have places I do not even see—spots where I can be abrasive, impatient, judgmental. And maybe, without meaning to, I am a sandpaper person to someone else today. It is in the friction of our interactions, the bumps and irritations of ordinary life, that God works on us.

I think that’s why scripture says, “Make allowance for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others.”

That’s the kind of grace I want, so shouldn’t I also make room in my heart for others even when they are aggravating.

I taste the sauce, still too hot, and smile. I lift my heart in a quiet “thank you” for those people who tested my patience today. I whisper a prayer for them, too. Because God does not just ask us to endure. God asks us to love. Even the ones who are hardest to love. Even the ones who make us want to roll our eyes or bite our tongues.

They are refining us. And sometimes, they are mirrors, showing us the rough spots in ourselves that only He can smooth.

So I stir the pot again and watch the steam rise. And I wonder, if we looked at the people who irritate us with a little more gratitude, would we see them differently?

Could we see them as part of the plan, helping shape the patience and kindness we could not develop on our own? Tonight, I am thankful. For the sandpaper people, for the growth they inspire, and for a God who never wastes the little irritations of a day.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Who are the “sandpaper people” in your life right now—and how might God be using them to shape your character?
  • When has someone shown you grace when you didn’t deserve it? How did that affect you?
  • How can you practice “making allowance” for someone’s faults this week in a practical way?
  • What happens to your heart when you shift from irritation to gratitude toward the people who test your patience?
  • How does remembering God’s forgiveness toward you change the way you respond to others?