There is a particular kind of shame that belongs to people who cannot forgive. You know the commandment. You believe it. You have prayed about it more than once. And when the name comes up you still feel it in your stomach. Then, on top of the original injury, you carry the sense that you are failing at something a good person would manage. Let me take that second layer off first.
You Are Not Failing
Inability to forgive a particular person is not rebellion. It is almost always a signal that something underneath has not been dealt with yet.
In decades of walking people through this, I have never once met someone who could not forgive because they were simply stubborn. There was always something else — a belief they had formed, a wound underneath the wound, something they had never said, or a burden so large that this item was only the visible corner of it.
The frozen item is information. It is telling you where to look.
Reason One: You Are Trying to Feel Something
If you have defined forgiveness as a warm feeling toward the person, you will never get there, and you should not try.
Forgiveness is a transfer of ownership, not an emotional state. It is possible to release someone completely and still not want to be in a room with them. Those are compatible.
Test yourself on this. When you say you cannot forgive them, do you mean you cannot bring yourself to make a decision? Or do you mean you cannot summon a feeling? If it is the second, you have been attempting the wrong task, and the failure is definitional rather than spiritual.
Reason Two: The Real Item Is Underneath
Frequently the person you cannot forgive is not actually the thing you cannot release.
A woman cannot forgive her ex-husband — but underneath is the belief that she wasted fifteen years and cannot get them back. A man cannot forgive his father — but underneath is the conclusion he formed at nine that he was not worth defending.
You cannot surrender a belief you have not named. So when an item will not move, stop working on the person and start working on the sentence. Ask: what did I decide about myself because of this? Write the answer down. That sentence is usually the actual rubber band, and the person is just where it is tied.
Reason Three: You Are Doing It in the Wrong Order
Most people attempt their hardest item first, on the theory that it is the important one. It is the important one. It is rarely the right place to start.
The young woman with one hundred thirty-six items did not begin with number one hundred thirty-six. She began at the top and worked down. By the time she reached her former boyfriend she had already watched the process work one hundred thirty-five times. She had evidence.
When she got there she still froze. “I hate him. When you say his name I feel sick. I cannot forgive him.” No exaggeration in it — only exhaustion.
But she was not the same person who had walked in months earlier carrying everything at once. The weight around the item had already gone.
What to Actually Do This Week
Concretely, in this order:
- Set the hard one aside deliberately. Not abandoned — postponed. Say so out loud so it does not feel like avoidance.
- Work everything else on your list. Smallest first if you like. Build the evidence.
- Write the unsent letter to the hard one. Everything. What they did, what it cost, what you concluded about yourself. Do not moderate it. Do not send it.
- Leave it for a season. A week, a month, a holiday. Genuinely leave it.
- Come back and read what you wrote. Then ask the only question that matters: am I willing to stop carrying this? Not — do they deserve it. Am I willing.
That reframe is the hinge. The question is never whether they have earned release. The question is whether you are willing to keep paying to hold it.
What Happened in January
I sent that young woman home for the holidays with instructions to write the letter. She came back in January and I did not recognise her — different hair, different clothes, different posture entirely.
She put the notebook on my desk. One hundred thirty-five crossed out, and the last page filled.
She had written the letter. Every memory. Every wound. And then she had written about the Savior — about how He had already taken one hundred thirty-five of these, and that His Atonement was not a concept to her anymore. She chose to forgive. Not because it was fair. Because she refused to carry him any longer.
Then, while she was still in my office that day, the phone rang. It was him. He had been to his own bishop and been told to seek her forgiveness before moving forward. He apologised. She forgave him — fully, freely, and having already decided before he called.
I have thought about the timing of that for years. But the part that matters is that her freedom did not depend on that call. She was already free when the phone rang.
If It Involves Abuse
Do not do this alone, and do not let anyone rush you.
Forgiveness in cases of abuse is not a requirement to resume contact, to drop a legal process, to keep a confidence, or to place yourself anywhere near danger. Anyone who tells you otherwise is wrong, and you may say so.
Work with a counsellor as well as a leader. Take the items slowly. There is no schedule here and no one is grading the pace. The Rubber Band Ball is designed to be worked gradually, with free worksheets on the resources page.
Frequently Asked Questions
What if I genuinely cannot forgive someone?
Inability is usually a signal rather than a failure — something underneath has not been dealt with. Common causes are attempting to produce a feeling rather than make a decision, an unnamed belief sitting beneath the offence, or starting with the hardest item before building any evidence that the process works.
Is it a sin if I cannot forgive yet?
Being unable to release something yet is different from refusing. In decades of counselling, people who could not forgive were almost never simply stubborn — there was a wound beneath the wound, an unspoken sentence, or a burden of which this item was only the visible corner. The frozen item is information about where to look next.
How do I find the real thing I cannot release?
Stop working on the person and work on the sentence. Ask what you decided about yourself because of what happened, and write the answer down. Often the person is simply where the belief is tied — the belief is the actual binding, and it cannot be surrendered until it is named.
Should I start with the hardest person to forgive?
No. Most people attempt the most significant item first and stall. Working through smaller items builds evidence that the process actually works, and it removes the surrounding weight. Many find the impossible item becomes possible once everything around it has been released.
What question should I ask myself about forgiveness?
Not whether they deserve it — that question has no useful answer and is not yours to settle. Ask instead whether you are willing to stop carrying it. That reframe moves the decision from their conduct, which you cannot control, to your own willingness, which you can.
Does forgiveness apply if I was abused?
Forgiveness never requires resuming contact, dropping a legal process, keeping a confidence, or placing yourself near danger. Work with a counsellor alongside any spiritual leader, and take it slowly. Anyone insisting that forgiveness obliges you to re-enter an unsafe situation is mistaken.