It gnaws at me. I am confronted with it weekly, and cowardly shrink from addressing it. It is a point of angst for me, and I ruminate on my inability to resolve the pain associated with the situation. As time has passed my anger and disappointment in my foe has abated and has been replaced with anger and disappointment in myself. I find myself longing for the friendship, the conversation, the confidences shared…yet week after week I am static.
We consider one another men of faith…yet we behave contrarily in this regard.
It's funny how I try to make my grudge seem effortless. My nonchalance is carefully honed. We look face to face in the safety of separation, but in casual encounters I practice avoidance. I have crafted many a speech in which I am blameless, a victim. They hold no truth. I share much blame. I have heard it said that many forget the original wrong when harboring grudges; I have not. I remember the words, the demeanor, the insinuations. At least I think I do.
I chose to minimize the insult. It hasn't worked; it has festered. As time passed the relevancy of addressing the situation has seemed to shift away, and we've simply ignored one another. I made one half-hearted attempt to reconcile, though it was not honest -- choosing instead to pretend that everything was as it was before. It didn't work, and my weak and dishonest advance was rejected. Rightfully so.
And so, here I am, on the feast of "Little Christmas", musing on my failure to fix what should have been long ago, and considering it loss. I want it to end, but at this point have no clue how to begin.
So I pray. I am sure he is praying, too. Perhaps we will listen.
All bitterness, fury, anger, shouting, and reviling must be removed from you, along with all malice. (And) be kind to one another, compassionate, forgiving one another as God has forgiven you in Christ. Ephesians, 4:31-32