The “Unforgivable” Sin

We all have that one sin, that one mistake. The one that “doesn’t qualify” when Jesus says our sins are forgiven. Sometimes we hide it, ashamed. Other times we talk about it a lot, seeking validation from others. Yes, it is bad enough to still feel burdened by.

But when I tell you that your sins are forgiven by Jesus, I mean it with my whole heart. Even that one sin. Even that one mistake. Even if you never got the chance to say “I’m sorry”. Even if you think it’s too late.

Take this from a person who has spent the last two and a half years trying to forgive herself for the biggest mistake she’s ever made in her life.

When people look at me and my life, they might laugh at the idea of me committing an “unforgivable” sin. They might think, “Oh, she’s probably gossiped or lied or put something before God, nothing that serious.”

To be honest, it’s almost harder to be seen that way than as someone who is notorious for doing the “big bad sins”. (But, by the way, all sins come down to the same cost, Jesus’ death on the cross, making no sin “worse” or “better” than another). When you have the reputation as the “good Christian”, people are less inclined to believe you’ve suffered pain or separation from God.

It’s hard to admit and talk about what happened. I worry people won’t see it as a “big enough” deal. I wonder if they will see me differently. I don’t even know what sort of reaction I want from people.

But I’ve come to realize that everything happens in our lives to teach us something, perhaps lessons we are supposed to share with others. More importantly, they should bring us closer to God. And, though it’s taken time, this one certainly did. If my story helps someone else on their healing process, then it’s worth being vulnerable.

It was January. I met him three months before– the guy who changed my life. When we first met, I thought he was nice, perhaps overly friendly, but the longer I knew him, the more my discomfort grew. To say I knew him would be an overstatement. The truth is, I really only had a few interactions with him. I was scared of him, I think, and of what I believed his intentions were. Each interaction sent me into a spiral of hateful thoughts. They stemmed from a place of fear and insecurity. I should’ve said something, but I didn’t. Instead, I dreaded seeing him and allowed my feelings to consume me.

When I say hateful, I truly mean hateful. They were unlike anything I had ever felt before or since. These feelings burned inside my chest. I could barely look at him; I could only glare. I remember walking by myself and thinking, I wish he were dead.

The last time I saw him was around Christmas. We were in a packed gym, and he was playing spike ball with some friends. By this point, I had made it clear I wasn’t interested. The ball rolled over to me, and he came to get it. He started saying thank you, like he expected me to pick it up. Instead, I moved to the side and avoided looking at him. Yet he thanked me again, and we made eye contact. Then he turned away, and I never saw him again.

January 22nd, 2019. I found out in an email that he died by suicide.

I can’t even begin to describe the weight of guilt I felt. For a week, there was a pressing sensation on my shoulders and I had a constant headache. I didn’t cry because I didn’t know what I was grieving. After all, I barely knew him.

I learned more about him after he died than while he was alive. He was so different than the person I made him out to be in my head. In many ways, that made it all the worse.

It just so happened that a retreat was scheduled the following weekend. Throughout the retreat, I felt isolated, closed off from everyone else. No one reached out to me, perhaps because no one knew I was hurting. I took walks on my own and sobbed, crying out to God and asking Him why such a horrible person–me–could still be walking the earth. What good was I?

At the same time, I had lost several friends and felt incredibly alone. I wondered if this was some sort of punishment from God. Maybe this is why I’m alone, I thought, because I’m a terrible person.

On the last night, my youth pastor gathered us in a circle to pray for each other. Many shed tears as they relayed their current situations. Some recently lost grandparents, another’s father was dying of cancer, and several were dealing with anxiety.

My issues, loneliness and guilt, couldn’t compare to their problems. Why would God want to listen or help the girl who wished death upon His precious child? Or so I thought.

When it came to my turn, I could barely squeeze out my words. I finally whispered, “I just feel so lonely.”

To my surprise, several peers came around me and prayed. One prayer, which I’ll never forget, went something like this:

“Dear God, help Hannah see that she’s never alone and that no one is better or worse than her, but that we’re all equal.”

It was a very simple prayer, yet the weight on my shoulders was lifted. I felt lighter, more alive.

To say that solved all my problems or that it even caused me to believe that I was forgiven would be a lie. It has taken years to understand that God has forgiven me and that He can use me and that situation to help others. But it showed me that God cared, and continues to care and love us, even when we’re at our worst. When we feel unforgivable.

I don’t know what sort of “unforgivable sin” is burdening your heart. But I believe that God has already forgiven you and doesn’t want you to be bogged down by the past, but rather look forward with joy to what He has in store for you. It’s also okay if the healing process is taking longer than you thought or what others claim it should be. But you are healing, I can promise you that.

I also want you to know that if you feel unseen or unloved, I’m so sorry. But you are not unseen or unloved. You are treasured, adored, by the most powerful Being in the universe–Jesus. He loves you. He sacrificed everything for you. He wants you to know that you are so special and so needed and so, so dearly loved.

And if no one’s said this to you today, I love you. ❤️

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.

1 John 1:9

Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.

Colossians 3:13

In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace.

Ephesians 1:7

A wonderful song about God loving us at our worst, titled appropriately enough, Even at My Worst, by Blanca: https://youtu.be/qiD-UzbH5VA