Free People: Aren’t Chained to Resentments

Take a moment and consider the worst thing that's ever been done to you.  A lie somebody told.  A wound they inflicted.  A treasure they stole.

We must never ignore that the harmful actions of others can have long-lasting effects on our lives.  It can be as overt as a bruise on a cheek and as insidious as a learned cynicism.

It's important to stand guard alongside our souls.  For while evil can set up camp easily in the mindset of weaker targets, it is the free in whom evil takes its greatest delight when narrowing its aim.  And if evil can execute a fall of the free, it's its most powerful achievement indeed.

Pain can lead to anger.  Persistent anger can become resentment.  Resentment can breed hopelessness.

Resentment is the boulder to which our feet are tied when revenge is our king.  It is the ocean by which we drown when we ignore the life vest of forgiveness.

Resentment is drilling a hole in your own boat and cursing it for sinking.

It's stiff-arming a medicine while lamenting your pain.

It's the dumbest gift you can hand over to your most squalid enemy--the keys to your soul,

your joy,

your life.

It auctions off the acreage of your heart to the ones who shouldn't be near it.

But how can resentment be stopped once it's begun its fiery stomping into your existence?

By opting to exist elsewhere.

During a rough stretch five years ago, I trained myself to spend the bulk of my time in activities where God was more apt to show up.  I chose mentally to be where He was and chose to be less where my fears or sadness could get the better of me.  When things of His nature consumed me, I wasted far less energy being befuddled and overwhelmed by circumstances that were out of my control.  I learned to U-turn my worry-prone heart toward His rest.  I prayed for peace by the minute until it felt more natural.  His words and His promises were my ever-worshipful soundtrack.  I studied examples of godly warriors who had emerged victorious on the other side of purported defeat.

And while not nearly as gratifying as the violent snap of a bolt cutter, the steadfastness I adopted chipped away at what I might have been and made space for the potential I held.

Thus, I have found that the best defense against resentment is commitment to good.

To the purposeful immersion in His uplifting love and grace.

To the tightened seatbelt of endurance when the road turns bumpy and unpaved.

To the acknowledgement that it's possible to become like your enemies.

To the vow that you'll never let it happen.

You are so much better than that.

Resentment, like a dirty room, must be tidied consistently for the mess not to overrun.  Untie your feet, patch the hole in your drowning boat, swallow the pill, and evict your disorderly tenants.

You have a choice--a say--in who runs your life.

And by golly, I hope that it's you.