The Island of Isolation is a quiet little island. There was a time in my time away from God I thought I had forgiven, I had pushed people away and thought I didn't need anyone. The truth is, I just buried the pain deep enough to pretend it didn’t exsist.
I carried the weight of betrayal, rejection, and misunderstanding like a silent storm inside of me.
I smiled on the outside, but deep down I was stuck, frozen in the moment I got hurt. Successful but isolated and broken inside.
My life had success but no purpose. I found out that without fulfilling your purpose,you can be surrounded by friends and feel alone. You can be full of liquid courage and laughing at a party one second but as soon as it ended you felt empty again.
Unforgiveness doesn’t just live in your heart; it takes up residence in your soul. It whispers lies, builds walls, and isolates you until you find yourself on an island of one — angry at the people who hurt you and even angrier at yourself for still caring. That’s where I lived for a long time.
God reminded me of something I had read a hundred times this week.
“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
When Jesus spoke those words, He wasn’t just forgiving — He was transcending. His forgiveness unlocked another dimension from pain to purpose, from suffering to glory.
And then I remembered Joseph. Betrayed by his own blood, sold into slavery, forgotten in a pit. Im sure he lived on the island built by unforgiveness.
Yet when his brothers stood before him years later, he forgave them.
That did not happen when he stood before them. That happen in the pit. That moment didn’t just heal his heart, it elevated his life. Forgiveness moved him from prison to the palace.
I realized then — my unforgiveness was my prison. I was waiting for the apology that never came, holding onto wounds that only God could heal. When I finally whispered, “Lord, I forgive them,” something shifted. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. But it was real.
I looked around for the last time at my small little island 🏝️ I had built and thought how did I live here so long. Days had turned to weeks and weeks to month then years. I can tell you the moment I took one step off my island God has carried me to incredible places.
It was like God opened a door to another dimension — not one of fantasy, or spirituality but of freedom. I could breathe again. I could love again. I could see again. The same people who once felt like enemies became part of my testimony.
Unforgiveness kept me bound, but forgiveness… it moved me.
Moved me closer to God.
Moved me out of pain and into purpose.
Moved me into another dimension — the dimension of peace, where scars don’t define you, they remind you.
If you’re still holding on, I get it. It hurts. But maybe your next level — your “palace,” your healing, your breakthrough — is waiting on the other side of “I forgive you.”
Because when you forgive like Jesus, you rise with him.
I am not a good man I am forgiven. I write these words out to tell anyone struggling to justify your Island 🏝️ It’s not worth it.
I’m not proud of what I’m about to share, but I made a promise to God — that I’d share my story, no matter how uncomfortable it makes me.
I feel like Rip Van Winkle — like I have fallen asleep spiritually and woke up to realize how much time had passed. Sixteen years. Sixteen years of silence between me and God. I didn’t pray. I didn’t open my Bible. I didn’t set foot in a church. Now I set trying to learn church songs which are incredible and fill my thirsty heart.
For years my sweet wife would get dressed every Sunday, Bible in hand, heading out the door to church with faith in her eyes — and I’d laugh. I’d tell her it was all fake, that none of it was real. But deep down, I wasn’t laughing because I didn’t believe… I was laughing because I was broken.
Hurting people hurt people.
I encourage you to wave goodbye to the island 🏝️ I love you, Im here to pray for and with you. Just take one step and God will deliver the breadcrumbs for you to follow every morning the rest of the way.