Giving Up Resentment

by Niki Turner

For if you forgive people their trespasses [their reckless and willful sins, leaving them, letting them go, and giving up resentment], your heavenly Father will also forgive you. 

Matt 6:14 AMP

Giving up resentment. That was my assignment this week, my heavenly "prescription" for some things that have been ailing me. Excuse the cliche, please, but I'm finding it a surprisingly difficult pill to swallow.

And even if he sins against you seven times in a day, and turns to you seven times and says, I repent [I am sorry], you must forgive him (give up resentment and consider the offense as recalled and annulled). 

Luke 17:4 AMP

Immediately after these instructions, Christ's disciples requested more faith.

Why is it so hard? Because resentment — like a colorless, odorless, deadly gas — permeates human nature to the point we fail to acknowledge it as a toxin, as something contrary to the kind of life Jesus came to give us. We're so accustomed to it we no longer resist it. 

Here's the definition of resentment from Webster's Dictionary, circa 1828:

1. The excitement of passion which proceeds from a sense of wrong offered to ourselves, or to those who are connected with us; anger. This word usually expresses less excitement than anger, though it is often synonymous with it. It expresses much less than wrath, exasperation, and indignation. In this use, resentment is not the sense or perception of injury, but the excitement which is the effect of it.

In case you're still contemplating Webster's definition (like I was) here are some synonyms for resentment (from Roget's Thesaurus): acerbity, animosity, annoyance, antagonism, bitterness, cynicism, displeasure, exasperation, fury, grudge, huff, ill feeling, ill will, ire, irritation, malice, malignity, outrage, perturbation, pique, rage, rancor, spite, vexation, wrath. 

Now, check your Facebook page and your email and your Twitter feed and the evening news... how much "excitement which is the effect of a sense of wrong on behalf of yourself or others" do you see? We've got liberals outraged by conservatives, Republicans irritated with Democrats, wives exasperated with husbands (ever been there?), children antagonizing parents and parents annoying children, employees showing up at work every day full of malice toward their bosses, bosses full of ire and indignation toward their employees, rich folks who hate poor folks, poor folks bitter about rich folks... the list goes on, and on, and on, until Jesus comes back, probably.

Daily, we mask the resentment we carry under humor or irony or sarcasm. Worse, we bury it deep down on the inside, in our soul, and hide all those feelings under a blanket of religious niceties until we can't stand it anymore, or some negative thing erupts in our body or mind and we have to deal with it in the form of some physical ailment or mental/emotional breakdown. The human body was not designed to harbor such things. It's like Kryptonite to the God-birthed spirit.

 

Resentment is like a weed. Or a virus. It's sneaky. It creeps in and hitches on to spiritual scar tissue from our past, and then grows like a wild thing, choking out the very fruit of the spirit God designed us to produce naturally.

I'm guilty.

I resent people in my house who sleep when I have to be awake. People who make bacon and/or waffles in the kitchen while I'm exercising my guts out in the other room. I resent people who leave messes behind and expect someone else to clean them up. I resent people who seem to have more money than brains. People who show up unannounced and expect me to entertain and feed them. I resent people who don't accept responsibility and do the things that need to be done without being told (Can you tell I live with teenage boys?). And so on.

And that's how I got in trouble with Abba Father this week, because I've let myself slip back into some old habits of irritation, aggravation, frustration, and offense. It has caused irritation and inflammation in my physical body and had a negative effect on my mind and emotions.

And the Holy Spirit speaks up on the inside and says, "Let it go, it's not worth it."

Because even if I'm right (and don't we always believe we're right?), becoming resentful and offended will put me in the wrong, outside of God's will, beyond His grace and blessing.

Like He said... it's not worth it.






Niki Turner is a writer, former pastor's wife, mother of four, and grandmother of two. She has thus far been unsuccessful at coming up with catchy taglines for her writing, her purpose in life, or what she hopes to achieve in the future. Suggestions are welcome.

“Mad, Bad, and Dangerous to Know”

by Susanne Dietze


When approached by a suave young gentleman with a rather lurid offer, the well-known beauty refused her admirer by calling him "Mad, bad, and dangerous to know." After all, he was a celebrity with a bad reputation.

He didn't take "no" for an answer, though. Eventually, he wore his lady down with his wit, charm, and perseverance. Their ensuing relationship was tempestuous tabloid fodder, leading to an ugly breakup with reports of stalking and spying, followed by years of open warfare fought in the very-public pages of mass-market publications.

Sound familiar? Just goes to show there’s nothing new under the sun.

The Dangerous Guy was George Gordon, Lord Byron (born 1788)—you may remember him from such school reading assignments as “Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage”. He’d published celebrated poetry. Ladies like him. He had powerful friends.

George Gordon, 6th Baron Byron, by Thomas Phillips,1824.{{PD-US}}

The Lady in Question, Caroline Lamb, was living a good life, too. Born in 1785, she was the niece of the famous Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, and was raised in the Devonshire household with the Duchess’ children as well as the Duke’s illegitimate children, all one happy dysfunctional family.

Devonshire House was a hotbed of Whig politics, and it was here that a matron named Lady Melbourne decided Caroline might make a good match for her politically minded son, William.

Lady Caroline Lamb, by Sir Thomas Lawrence, 1805, {{PD-US}}

Caroline was apparently taken with William. They married and had two children, but their son George was born either disabled or ill, and their daughter died within hours of birth. About that time, William was elected to political office, and their marriage began to fray.

In this era, many in Society believed that as long as participants were discreet, adultery was fine. Just about every relative of Caroline’s followed this creed, but it didn’t sit well with Caroline. Not the adultery part; the lying part. So in 1812 when she and Byron started their affair, she didn’t care who knew about it.

She was 27. He was 24. They were passionate and delirious. He called her Caro, and the name stuck among Society.

So it was probably something of a shock to Caro when, after all of that pursuing and scandal and declarations of passion, Byron moved on a few months later. He broke things off to be with a new mistress, and soon after, he married William’s cousin, Annabella Milbanke. (Caro’s cousin-in-law? Ooh, that burns.)

Annabella Milbanke, Lady Byron {{PD-US}}

Caro spent the next four years pursuing Byron in any possible way she could contrive. She wrote letters to him. She dressed like a pageboy, entered his house, and scribbled notes to him in his books. She didn’t eat, and Byron told Lady Melbourne he was being “haunted by a skeleton.”

For his part, Byron wrote scathing poems that were clearly about Caro, like “Remember Thee! Remember Thee!”

Ay, doubt it not. Thy husband too shall think of thee!

By neither shalt thou be forgot, Thou false to him, thou fiend to me!

Oh, dear.

Caro’s family sent her to the country to get her away from Byron.  But Caro kept on writing.

Her first novel, Glenarvon, was published in 1816, a so-called apology to Byron. However, the novel’s characters were ill-concealed likenesses of well-known members of high society, including Byron, William, and the Patronesses at Almack’s. The novel basically blamed everyone for the poor heroine's ruin, and it caused scandal while, naturally, becoming an astonishing financial success.

Meanwhile, Byron’s new wife Annabella was miserable with her philandering hubby. It wasn’t long before she took off with their daughter Ada, and he signed a Deed of Separation.

Caro saw an opportunity for revenge. She fanned flames of the rumors about Byron’s private life, including claims of Byron's adultery, incest with his sister Augusta Leigh which resulted in a daughter, and sodomy (which can't be proven but still interest scholars. All claims apparently have strong arguments to back them up).

Byron fled Britain, never to return. He died in Greece in 1824, something of a war hero.

Caro and William separated officially in 1825, when she was 40. But when she died three years later, William was at her bedside.

William went on to inherit the title of Lord Melbourne. He became prime minister and was the young Queen Victoria’s most trusted adviser. They'd spend four or five hours a day in one-another's company and wrote to one another when they were apart.

William Lamb, Lord Melbourne {{PD-US}}

Another interesting note? Byron’s only legitimate child, Ada, grew up to become Ada Lovelace, considered the world’s first computer programmer. Her name and likeness are used by the Ada Initiative, which promotes females in the field of technology.

As for Caro and Byron's legacy? When Caro called Byron “mad, bad, and dangerous to know,” she might have been right. But she also might well have been predicting the harvest of their sad, twisted romance.

***

Does it surprise you how similar this 200-year old celebrity scandal sounds to what we see in today's tabloids?

Do you feel sad for all of these people? I do. Do you ever wonder if something could have happened in people's lives to prevent them from making bad choices?

***

Susanne Dietze has neither dressed like a pageboy nor written a scathing novel about people she knows. 

She is represented by Tamela Hancock Murray of The Steve Laube Agency. You can visit her on her website, www.susannedietze.com.

Was It Something I Said?

by C.J. Chase

If you follow the news, you may have heard of the latest possible scandal involving PRISM or Boundless Informant. And if you have, I hope you’ll enlighten me in the comments section. I’ve been trying to get a handle on this, and everything I read and hear seems to contradict the last thing I read/heard.

Is it a data storage facility for every email, phone record, carrier pigeon message and Inkwell blog comment ever created—or just a means to track foreign threats? The paper breaking the story claims the US government is amassing an unprecedented repository of every possible form of communication Americans engage in. The government spokesman claims they only look for possible threats. Of course, given (1) the recent revelation about the government tracking of AP reporters’ phones and Verizon customer phone records and (2) the admissions about the IRS targeting certain groups for extra scrutiny and audits, the government’s credibility on the privacy front is somewhat lacking these days. (In which case, hello, government analyst assigned to track me. I hope you’re enjoying the Inkwell blog. And do be try one of my books while you’re reading.)

Knowledge is power, and few things attract the proud like power. After all, if I know best, that it only stands to reason you should do as I say. Satan’s three temptations of Jesus all involved power – either the misuse of power (changing the stones to bread, throwing himself from the temple) or the prideful acquisition of power (bow down, and Satan would give him all the kingdoms of the world).

Data is easier to track, gather and analyze than ever before, and in the information age, data is king. Manipulating past data allows companies to predict future behaviors. For example, based on your credit history, credit card issuers analyze the risks/rewards of offering you credit.  

But with every new bit of data collected about you, the risks to your privacy, your finances, and perhaps even your person increase. There’s a cool techno-word for attempting to acquire data from unsuspecting or too-trusting people (data such as passwords, credit card numbers, etc.)—phishing.

And while some might say we don’t have to worry about government data collection if we aren’t doing anything wrong, we know all governments on earth are comprised of fallible human beings. Do you remember in 2008 when a government employee leaked private financial information about “Joe the Plumber” to the press? More recently, a spokesman for a traditional marriage advocacy group testified before Congress that an employee of the IRS leaked confidential donor information to political opponents—opponents who then proceeded to harass the donors. 

I confess to a certain queasiness about the notion of anyone collecting data about me. Have you ever heard it said that once something is on the Internet, it can never be erased? It will exist somewhere, in cached bits and bytes.Whether through an honest mistake or malicious hacker, private information sometimes becomes public knowledge.

Do you know who else keeps data about us? In Matthew 12:36, Jesus said, “I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak” (ESV). 

Ouch! Ponder that for a minute: Every. Careless. Word. Have you ever impulsively said something you wish you could call back? Yelled at your children? Snapped at your spouse? Complained about the minister? Gossiped about someone who annoyed you? You know the problem with that children's ditty "Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me." It's not true. Words said with anger or scorn hurt. 

And those hurtful words reveal deep facets of our character. Just like companies use the information they collect to learn about us, our words reveal what is inside. Right before Jesus told us the consequences for idle words, he said, “For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.” (Matthew 12: 34b, ESV)

I don't know the truth about whether the US government is spying on its citizens. But I do know that in the end, everyone—writers, readers, bloggers, mothers, teachers, lawyers, presidents, janitors, and government data collectors—will have to give an accounting before God. And that's reason enough to choose my words with care this week.

Do you have privacy concerns in the Internet age? How do you find balance between privacy and convenience?

After leaving the corporate world to stay home with her children, C.J. Chase quickly learned she did not possess the housekeeping gene. She decided writing might provide the perfect excuse for letting the dust bunnies accumulate under the furniture. Her procrastination, er, hard work paid off in 2010 when she won the Golden Heart for Best Inspirational Manuscript and sold the novel to Love Inspired Historicals. Her current release, The Reluctant Earl, is now available  in online bookstores. You can visit C.J.'s cyber-home (where the floors are always clean) at www.cjchasebooks.com