Don't have hate in your heart. And other bathroom mirror affirmations

“Make a clean break with all cutting, backbiting, and profane talk. Be gentle with one another, sensitive. Forgive one another as quickly and thoroughly as God in Christ forgave you.” — Ephesians 4:31-32 (The Message)

This is probably one of the hardest posts I’ve written.

Last year, I was at my sister’s women’s retreat, and on the final night, we all wrote notes to one another—words of encouragement, affirmations, something to take home as a reminder of how God spoke to us.

I was excited when I got mine.

I unfolded the paper, expecting a scripture, maybe something to stick on my mirror as a little encouragement for the weeks ahead.

Instead, six words stared back at me:

“Don’t have hate in your heart.”

Excuse me?

I blinked, reread it, and my immediate reaction was offense.

I thought—Whoever wrote this clearly doesn’t know me. I don’t have hate in my heart!

But the longer I sat with it, the more I realized exactly what those words meant.

Because I did have hate in my heart.

A Seed That Took Root

I know the exact moment hate entered my heart.

I was eight years old.

I can close my eyes and be back there in an instant. I can remember the words, the pain, the exact moment when bitterness planted itself inside of me.

And instead of digging it up, I watered it.

For 38 years.

I let it take root. I let it grow. And I let it define me in ways I didn’t even realize.

It shaped my thoughts. My relationships. My reactions.

And if I’m being really honest, part of me didn’t want to let it go.

Because my hate had fueled things in me. It gave me passion. It gave me purpose. It gave me a reason to fight.

But what I didn’t realize is that hate is a cheap substitute for purpose.

Who Am I Without It?

The hardest part of letting go of hate wasn’t forgiveness.

It was figuring out who I was without it.

For so long, my hate gave me a reason to prove people wrong. A reason to push harder. A reason to succeed.

And if I let it go… then what?

Would I still be as driven?

Would I still have the same fire?

Would I still care as much?

And then, in the middle of those questions, God met me with one of His own:

“Do you trust me?”

Because what if the freedom He had for me was so much greater than the fire I had been clinging to?

The First Step to Freedom

I had to start small.

I had to start with prayer.

And at first? It did not feel good.

I prayed for the one who hurt me, and it felt like swallowing glass.

I did it again, and it felt like going against everything in me.

I kept doing it, and little by little… something shifted.

Every prayer was like a brick being removed from a wall that had stood for decades.

And brick by brick, I felt lighter.

Brick by brick, I felt peace.

Brick by brick, I realized—I didn’t need my hate anymore.

The Wall Came Down

Hate is a prison.

Forgiveness? That’s freedom.

It doesn’t mean what happened was okay.

It doesn’t mean the pain didn’t matter.

It doesn’t mean I don’t have scars.

But it does mean I’m not bound by it anymore.

I used to think that if I let go, I’d lose my passion.

But I didn’t lose my passion. I found purpose.

I didn’t lose my fire. I found peace.

And I didn’t lose myself. I found who I was always meant to be.

My Prayer

Heavenly Father,

I don’t want to carry hate in my heart anymore. I don’t want bitterness to take root where You’ve called me to plant love. I don’t want to be fueled by anger when You’ve created me to be led by grace.

Help me to let go.

To surrender the weight of what I was never meant to carry.

To forgive—not because they deserve it, but because You’ve asked me to.

Tear down every wall in my heart. Fill every broken place with Your peace.

Because I don’t want to be bound by the past. I want to be free.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.