Mercy for Myself: When We Can’t Forgive Our Own Mistakes

We talk so much about forgiving others.
“Let go of grudges.”
“Show mercy.”
“Turn the other cheek.”

We nod in agreement.
We even try.

But what about forgiving ourselves?

No one knows your failures the way you do.
The words you can’t take back.
The choices you regret in the quiet hours of the night.
The sin you confessed but keep confessing in your heart, over and over.
That one thing you believe disqualifies you from grace.

It’s strange.
We believe God is merciful.
We preach it.
We tell others, “He will forgive you!”
But for ourselves, we think:
“Not this time.”
“Not this mistake.”
“Not me.”

We wear our shame like penance.
We think beating ourselves up is holy.
But it isn’t holiness.
It’s refusing the gift.

Jesus didn’t die on the cross so we could keep punishing ourselves.
He didn’t say, “Forgive others seventy times seven—except yourself.”
He didn’t mean some sins.
He meant all.

When we can’t forgive ourselves, it’s not humility.
It’s disbelief.
It’s saying our judgment matters more than His.
It’s insisting that His mercy has limits.

But His mercy doesn’t run out.
It doesn’t exclude you.

He knows everything you did.
And still He says:
“I forgive you.”
“Come home.”
“Rest.”

Imagine refusing to leave the confessional even after absolution.
Insisting you’re still guilty.
That’s what we do in our hearts.

But God’s forgiveness is complete.
It’s final.
It’s personal.

Maybe it’s time to lay it down.
That memory.
That failure.
That guilt that whispers you’re unworthy.

Because you’re not your worst day.
You’re not the sum of your mistakes.
You’re a child of mercy.

If Jesus says, “You are forgiven,”
who are you to argue?