DID YOU KNOW
November 13, 2026
“Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sins against us.” — Luke 11:4 (NIV)
Did you know that Jesus teaches us to ask for mercy and think about whom we owe mercy in the same breath?
I find the first part of this prayer easier to say. I can usually think of a careless word, a hurried judgment, or a kindness I intended to show and then forgot. I want the Father to hear me when I ask Him to forgive me. The second part brings a different face to mind. Perhaps it is someone whose words still sting, or someone I am quietly determined to keep at a distance because I want them to feel what I felt. Luke’s wording helps me see what I am doing. When Jesus speaks of the person who sins against us, the Greek word opheilonti literally describes someone who owes us something. A wrong can feel like an unpaid account. I can spend a surprising amount of energy waiting for an apology, imagining the conversation where I finally get one, or finding small ways to make the other person feel what I believe they owe.
Faith connects a forgiving spirit with repentance. That sends me back to the first words of the prayer with a little more honesty. When I ask God to forgive my sharpness, am I willing to admit that it hurt someone? When I ask Him to forgive my pride, am I willing to hear what another person saw in me? A heart learning to repent begins to understand what a gift it is when mercy comes. That understanding can change how I regard someone who has wronged me. I may have a right to ask for an honest conversation or an apology. I can do that while asking God to take away my desire to humiliate the person. The next time I pray these words, I can name both things before the Father. “Here is what I did. Here is what was done to me. Please show me where Your mercy needs to reach me today.”
Did you know that the turning point in Jesus’ parable of the unmerciful servant comes when the forgiven man meets someone who owes him?
Peter asks how often he should forgive, and Jesus tells him about a king who settles accounts with his servants (Matthew 18:21–35). One man owes a sum so large that his promise to repay it sounds desperate. The king takes pity on him, cancels the debt, and lets him go. Then that same man finds a fellow servant who owes him a much smaller sum. He grabs him and demands payment. The second servant pleads for patience, just as the first had done before the king. I wonder what it would have taken for the man to hear his own voice in that plea. Jesus lets the two requests echo each other so we can hear what the man misses. He has just walked out of the king’s presence a free man. Now he has a chance to let the mercy he received govern what he does with the man standing in front of him.
That scene comes close to home when I remember how differently I can tell two stories about nearly the same offense. If I spoke sharply, I remember the pressure I was under, how little sleep I had, and what happened just before the conversation. If someone spoke sharply to me, I may remember only the sentence and how it landed. It takes humility to recognize that I know much more about my own circumstances than I know about theirs. Even if I learn nothing that explains what they did, I still know what mercy has meant in my own life. Perhaps a friend let me finish a clumsy apology without making me feel smaller. Perhaps someone gave me time to make a mistake right. When I remember what it was like to be on the receiving end of that patience, I have a reason to offer some of it. Jesus’ parable asks me to remember the king’s kindness before I decide how to deal with the person who owes me.
Did you know that Paul describes forgiveness in terms of the kindness Christ has already shown us?
In Ephesians 4:32, Paul writes, “Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you” (NIV). The words “just as in Christ” give me somewhere to look when I cannot summon the kindness Paul asks of me. I can look again at the cross and remember that Christ has already dealt mercifully with me in my sin. Sometimes the next step is small enough to miss. I can choose to stop retelling a story for the pleasure of making someone look bad. I can speak honestly about a hurt to someone who will help me pray through it. If a conversation is possible, I can name the wrong plainly and give the other person room to respond. In a relationship where trust has been damaged, forgiveness can begin while trust is rebuilt through honesty and consistent action. The Lord can work in me even while the other person’s response remains uncertain.
I think of the moment an old hurt comes back while I am doing something ordinary, perhaps washing dishes or driving home. My mind begins rehearsing the answer I wish I had given. That can become a moment of prayer. I can tell the Lord what still hurts and ask Him to help me choose what I will do with the memory. Luke 11:4 brings the mercy I seek from God into the way I respond to those who have wronged me. Matthew 18 shows the seriousness of refusing that mercy to others, and Ephesians 4 places Christ’s kindness at the center of how we learn to forgive. If the hurt returns tomorrow, I can pray again. In time I may notice that the story takes up less room in my conversations, or that I can hear the person’s name and ask God to do something good in their life. Those are quiet changes, and they are worth thanking Him for.
As you pray today, bring one name before the Father. Ask the Holy Spirit for the courage to take one honest, merciful step, especially if it costs you the satisfaction of keeping score. Every time you choose kindness when a cutting word would come easily, someone has a chance to see what the mercy of Christ looks like.
FEEL FREE TO COMMENT, SUBSCRIBE OR POST SO OTHERS MAY KNOW