Let’s not pretend this is easy. He cost you something real — the promotion, the reputation, the years, maybe the job itself. The damage has a dollar figure and a timeline, and he has never once acknowledged it. And now, because you’re a person of faith, you’re supposed to forgive him?
Yes. But probably not the way you’ve been imagining it. I’ve had to walk this road more than once in my own career, and the thing that finally made forgiveness possible wasn’t more willpower. It was understanding what forgiveness actually is — and what it was never asking me to do.
What Forgiveness Is Not
It is not saying it was okay. Forgiveness starts by naming the wrong accurately. God doesn’t ask you to lie about what happened; He asks you to release the debt while telling the truth about it.
It is not trust. Forgiveness is given; trust is earned. You can fully forgive a man and still never hand him your work, your confidence, or your career again.
It is not access. This one sets people free. David forgave Saul — he spared his life twice and wept over him — and David never went back to the palace. After the second sparing, Saul said, “Return, my son David: for I will no more do thee harm” (1 Samuel 26:21). David didn’t return. He forgave the man and kept his distance, because forgiveness and wisdom were never in conflict. Compassion and boundaries are not enemies.
It is not dropping your protections. Keep your documentation. Keep your options. If there’s an HR process or a legal matter in motion, forgiveness doesn’t require abandoning it; justice and forgiveness are different rooms in the same house.
What Forgiveness Is
Forgiveness is transferring a debt. He owes you — the acknowledgment, the restitution, the apology that isn’t coming. Unforgiveness is you standing at his door every day, demanding payment from a man who will never pay. Forgiveness is walking away from that door and handing the account to the only One who can collect: “Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord” (Romans 12:19).
Notice that’s not passivity. It’s a jurisdiction transfer. You resign as his judge — not because he’s innocent, but because the seat was never yours, and sitting in it was costing you more than it cost him.
Why It’s Mostly for You
Here’s what I learned the hard way: unforgiveness doesn’t hurt the boss. He’s not thinking about you at dinner. It hurts you — and worse, it changes you. Resentment rehearsed long enough hardens into something that follows you to the next job, the next team, the next Saul. It’s the exact mechanism by which the wounded become the wounders. The bitter David becomes the next Saul, and the cycle continues.
That’s why forgiveness is the final and most important survival strategy: it’s how you walk out of this season still yourself. Your greatest victory was never defeating him. It’s refusing to become him.
How to Actually Do It
1. Name the debt, specifically. Write down what he actually cost you. Vague grievances can’t be released; specific ones can.
2. Transfer it, out loud. Tell God plainly: “This is what he owes me. I can’t collect it and I’m tired of trying. I hand the account to You. I resign as his judge.” Forgiveness is a decision before it’s a feeling. The feeling may take months to catch up. Make the decision anyway.
3. Repeat it as often as the account reopens. The replay will start again — in the shower, on the drive, at 2 a.m. That’s not failure; that’s the process. Each time, hand it back. Jesus told Peter seventy times seven (Matthew 18:22), and I’ve come to think that’s less about tolerating repeat offenders than about how many times we have to release the same offense.
4. Pray for him. The hardest one, and the one Jesus commanded (Luke 6:28). Not “Lord, fix him” — but genuine prayer for mercy on whatever fear or emptiness drives a man to tear down the people who serve him well. You can’t stay bitter toward someone you’re honestly praying for. That’s the whole secret.
5. Build something. The best evidence of forgiveness is a future he doesn’t control. Take what the season taught you and lead with it — become the boss he never was. Joseph’s last word on the brothers who sold him was “God meant it unto good” (Genesis 50:20), and he said it from a position of fruitfulness, not bitterness. Fruitfulness is the final answer to a Saul.
Go Deeper
The full path — surviving the jealous boss with your character intact, and then putting down the spear you never threw — is the closing movement of my book, The Spirit of Saul: Surviving the Boss Who Wants to See You Fall.
Forgive him. Keep your distance. Keep your file. And go build a kingdom he’ll never touch. Finish your song.
Commissioner William Epps is an author and security leadership consultant. His books are published through E.P.P.S Method Publishing Co.
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