Lord Jesus, on this 18th day of Lent, I come to You a little weary but still trying. We’ve walked almost halfway through the desert now, and sometimes the sand feels hot under my feet. Today Your Gospel hits close: Peter asks how many times he has to forgive—seven times? And You say not seven, but seventy-seven times. Basically, no limit.
That stings a bit because there’s that one person (or maybe a few) whose words or actions still echo in my head. I say I forgive, but then the grudge sneaks back like a bad habit. The parable You told about the servant who was forgiven a huge debt but then choked his fellow servant over a tiny one… yeah, that’s me sometimes. Ungrateful. Small-hearted.
Help me remember how much You’ve forgiven me, Lord—way more than I can count. Wash away my pettiness with Your mercy. Give me the grace to let go, really let go, even when it hurts. Not because the other person deserves it, but because I need to breathe freely again, and because You command it out of love.
Mary, Mother of Mercy, pray for me when forgiveness feels impossible. Help me choose the harder but holier path.
Jesus, I trust in You. Keep softening my heart this Lent.
Amen.
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