I had a Judas in my life: I did not respond like Jesus

I had a Judas in my life. Maybe you’ve had one too.

It’s one of the most piercing, heart-twisting kinds of betrayals. To love someone deeply, to bring them into your home, your family, your sacred spaces, and then to sense something is off. A whisper in your spirit that your friendship isn’t the same. There’s a shift, a tightening in your chest. A knowing you try to shake off because surely, you’re just being sensitive. You want to love. You want to hope. But the Holy Spirit keeps nudging.

I remember that moment clearly. I had been praying for clarity. I felt torn between expressing my concerns or continuing to show love in silence. I wanted to believe the best, yet my spirit wouldn’t settle. And then, one night, Abba gave me a clear warning: “A betrayal is coming.”

What do you do when God gives you foreknowledge of betrayal? When He speaks to your heart before the knife is even lifted? It’s one thing to heal after a betrayal, but quite another to love before it happens, with the weight of that knowledge sitting on your chest. That is the test. And Jesus faced it long before the cross.

Scripture says Jesus “knew from the beginning who did not believe, and who would betray Him” (John 6:64 AMP). Yet He chose Judas anyway. Jesus, full of divine foreknowledge, still called him. He walked with him. He shared the secrets of the Kingdom with him. He washed his feet. He broke bread with him. He treated him like all the others. And at the end, He looked him in the eyes and said, “Friend, do what you came for” (Matthew 26:50 AMP).

Jesus knew and still, He loved fully, without reservation.

Seven months after the Lord’s warning, the moment came. And here's the truth: I didn’t respond like Jesus at first. I wept, I wrestled, I tried to hold on. I was afraid to let go. I didn’t want the rift to be real. I feared the cost. So, I clung to the hope of restoration even when the Holy Spirit was urging release.

But over time, I began to see: Jesus let Judas go.

There is a difference between sacrificial love and self-destructive denial. Jesus loved Judas, but He didn’t depend on Judas. And when Judas made his choice, Jesus allowed it—because He trusted the sovereignty of God. He didn’t fight the plan. He didn't deny what was unfolding. In John 13:27 (AMP), Jesus tells Judas, “What you are going to do, do quickly [without delay].” That wasn’t coldness. That was clarity.

I had to learn that, too. There comes a time when, like Jesus, we must say: “Do what you must.” And then… let go.

And when I finally did, the truth settled in: love is never wasted. Even when it’s rejected. Even when it’s misunderstood. The way Jesus loved Judas wasn’t just for Judas—it was a blueprint for us. We can love and forgive, even if we must also walk away in wisdom and let Abba’s plans continue.

Because here’s the other truth I had to face: I’ve been Judas too. Maybe we all have, in some way. Betraying a friend, breaking a promise, ignoring a calling. There’s a little Judas and a little Peter in all of us. Peter denied Jesus three times (Luke 22:61 AMP). The difference wasn’t in the betrayal, it was in the response afterward. Judas regretted it but couldn’t receive forgiveness. Peter wept bitterly, repented, and returned—and Jesus welcomed him back.

This journey taught me a humbling truth. I needed to forgive. I first had to forgive them, but also myself. For the pain I held, for the way I tried to control the outcome, and for not letting go sooner. Forgiveness wasn’t just about releasing them. It was about releasing me from the grip of bitterness. The enemy attaches himself quickly to unforgiveness, because he knows it separates us from God.

We must learn to forgive and release so bitterness doesn’t take root. But let’s be clear—loving someone like Judas doesn’t mean staying in an intimate relationship with them. Jesus allowed Judas access because it served a divine purpose. And once that purpose was fulfilled, He let him go.

When I reflect on the disciples, I see a tapestry of humanity. John—the beloved, safe, close one. Peter—the impulsive but devoted one. Thomas—the doubter. Judas—the betrayer.

Isn’t that just like life?

Some people are “Johns” who are safe, loyal, and tender. Others are “Peters” who are passionate but flawed. Some are “Thomases” who are sceptical and slow to believe. And yes, some are “Judases” who are close in proximity but distant in heart.

And yet… Jesus loved them all.

“A new commandment I give you, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, so you too are to love one another” (John 13:34 AMP).

That’s the call! Not just to love those who love us back, but to love through it all. And it’s not easy. I didn’t always get it right. My heart recoiled. My emotions flared. But with time and the Holy Spirit’s help, I found clarity. And peace.

So, what does loving Judas look like today?

• It looks like praying for the one who hurt you (Matthew 5:44 AMP).

• It looks like forgiving them, even if reconciliation never happens (Mark 11:25 AMP).

• It looks like setting boundaries that guard your heart (Proverbs 4:23 AMP).

• It looks like blessing them when possible, without forcing closeness (Romans 12:14 AMP).

• It looks like surrendering them to God and resisting revenge (Romans 12:19 AMP).

• And sometimes, it looks like repenting for your own Judas moments and walking the Peter path back home.

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In the end, this story isn’t really about them. It’s about us. About the kind of love we choose to carry. Will we let betrayal harden us, or shape us more into Christ?

Jesus said, “By this everyone will know that you are My disciples, if you have love and unselfish concern for one another” (John 13:35 AMP).

If we truly want to be like Jesus, we must learn to love like Him. That means loving the Johns, but also the Judases. Not blindly. Not without boundaries. But with a heart so rooted in the Father that betrayal no longer derails us. It refines us.

So to the one reading this who has been betrayed: Jesus understands. He knows how to carry you through. To the one who had a Judas moment: don’t stay stuck in shame, instead choose the road back, like Peter did. And to the one like me… somewhere in the middle, still learning - I pray we all grow to love more like Jesus. With each heartbreak. With each lesson. With each test.

Because in the end, we’re not called to love perfectly. We are called to love faithfully.

God’s grace is enough to carry us through it all.