“The bare recollection of anger kindles anger.” Publilius Syrus I took a position in a different town working for a man who just happened to be managing the consolidation of sixteen offices as a side project for the general manager. This meant our small team of six got little attention. You could say he trusted us to do our jobs, but the neglect was still felt. Never more than when it was my time for a raise—we only got merit raises in this company, and then only on four days a year.
When I got a good review but no raise I asked, “Am I not achieving the goals we set?” He said I was doing a great job and that he would look into what happened. We never spoke of it again. Three months later on the day they gave raises, again I didn’t get a raise. When I confronted him he casually commented, “Well you had a salary action when you transferred here.” Barely able to hold back the tears I replied, “That was when I took a cut in pay to move to this city from the higher-paying San Francisco Bay Area.” “Oh,” he said, clearly embarrassed. I did get a raise three months later but it took much longer to recover from the financial hardship of having to pay for rent in the new city and the mortgage on my condo in the Bay Area for five months before the condo sold. Years later I did forgive and all but forgot about it. But, whenever I found myself in a setting where co-workers were complaining about their bosses, I would pull out my story knowing it would trump all their stories. But there was little joy in having the best story. Instead I would leave the group and feel as though my blood pressure was off the charts. I might even be red-faced, but I was always back in the pit of that burning angry. What had happened to my genuine forgiveness? Just telling the story—with all the vocal intonations necessary to tell a good story—exhumed the feelings I had forgiven years before. They went from “as far as the east is from the west,” to, front and center. Having others agree that I was truly unjustly treated, fueled the fires within me. I found myself back in God’s lap crying for relief from these mixed feelings, until I discovered the correlation. Uncovering the story brought back all the emotions as well, regardless of my sincere forgiveness. Are there certain people that bring out the worst in you? Is there a better way to address the situation when the conversation turns to complaining? How will you handle it differently next time? Lord, thank You for teaching me—the hard way—to not take part in the complaining of others. Amen “How blessed is the person who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked, nor stand in the path of sinners, nor sit in the seat of scoffers!” Psalm 1:1 What are your thoughts? Libby Note: Publilius Syrus (85–43 BC), a Latin writer of Syrian birth, best known for Sententiae, a published work of 700 moral maxims still true and quoted today: Maxim 14—Debt is the slavery of the free; Maxim 149—Many receive advice, few profit by it; Maxim 524—A rolling stone gathers no moss; Maxim 584—No man is happy who does not think himself so; Maxim 1070—I have often regretted my speech, never my silence.
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WelcomeI love the wisdom of the ages gleaned from relevant quotes. In them there is a connection to the human experience that crosses all borders. Join me as I relate my personal experiences, and link the wisdom of the quote to the Source of all wisdom: God's Word, the Bible. Enjoy, Libby Categories
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