Even Seventy Times Seven

I don't get angry as a general rule. I get annoyed, frustrated and irritated, I vent and it all blows over like a desert thunderstorm in July.

I don't hold grudges. More because I'm too lazy to hang on to hurtful emotions more than any indication of pending sainthood.

I don't believe in revenge. I believe it poisons the person seeking it more than it harms the person who (in all likelihood) might deserve it. (I did however, find delight in plotting comedic revenge on the practical-joking-neighbors in college, but that is neither here nor there).

I believe that life is not fair, nor was it meant to be. I believe that sometimes the good do die young, the bad guy wins, someone gets more or less than she deserves and once in awhile all sense of goodness seems to have evaporated.

I believe that there is some good in everyone. More good in some than others, but that's not the point of this statement at the moment.

I don't believe in retribution, and most of my opinion on litigation law would be categorized under "people unwilling to take responsibility for their actions."

I believe that sometimes no one is at fault - bad things just happen, sometimes bad things happen that no one can control. I think very often pointing fingers does nothing but create chaos that reduces the ability to solve the original problem.

With that said, I AM ANGRY. Angry enough to spit nails. Angry enough to not feel anything but the searing, white-hot emotional furnace of not caring about anything else but being angry.

It has been brewing for a month. It has been a month-long drama of hurt, betrayal, miscommunication, lies and shattered trust. I have remained reasonably emotionally sane, but today I hit a wall. A 1,000-foot-high-cement-wall-with-razor-wire-and-broken-glass.

And Sunday's sermon was on forgiveness. Delivered, incidentally, by a recently returned missionary who helped me move on Saturday.

As mad as I am, I am grateful for the reminder to forgive "even seventy times seven" (Even if you subscribe to the literal meaning, Christ must have realized that forgiving the same person 490 times would do more to prepare one for salvation than anything else, just by the sheer virtue of how much patience it would require). I have seen people destroyed by bitter anger and hurt. I have seen the inability to forgive poison people, families and generations.

I'm not willing to go that far over a few thousand dollars. My creditors might think otherwise, but at this point, while I will protect myself from further damage, I am praying to remember "even seventy times seven."