Over the weekend I spent time in silent retreat meditating on Ephesians 1-3. One of the key disciplines of a silent retreat is taking time to quiet the soul. Henri Nouwen used the description of getting the monkeys out of the trees. We get all the distractions flying at us and chattering away in those first hours of silent retreat.

That happened for me. I fully understand that it truly takes three full days in silence to overcome those monkeys and hear the voice of God. However, I also realize I don’t always get that opportunity, so I must trust the Lord fully to speak. He is so gracious to help me in the time that I have to commit to the discipline.

I was so grateful to pour into Ephesians 1-3 and have the Lord pour his love out to me. Even so, the monkeys still chattered. The worst of them were exposed, which I suppose should be a blessing. I know the root of one of my deepest struggles. The trouble is DEALING with that struggle. So, it is absolutely no surprise to me that I run across an article dealing with the exact issue I confront. I am so grateful for those God-ordained appointments! It doesn’t make it any easier, but I sense the tools being given to me. I am thankful for the gifts of the Spirit to help me battle my huge ego.

Some of the thoughts from the article:

At first I thought my anger was giving me strength, bolstering my courage so I could deal with the issues. But the anger soon betrayed me, sapping my energy and compromising my ability to act according to wisdom and divine direction. It’s only as I have turned my hurt—and the overwhelming urge to prove that I’m right—over to God that I’ve begun to be able to respond (and sometimes resist responding) from a place of holy, rather than human, strength.

I do not have a conflict with a particular friend, but I do have a deep conflict in myself with a group of people. The struggle is my own. They are probably not even aware. Yet, it is a struggle, and I deal with the anger.

The Scripture the author finds to help is Psalm 37. The key is to roll this issue onto God. Yet, it is not so “easy” as to just “roll away.”

But here’s the thing: I would be fine with rolling my burdens onto God if I were guaranteed resolution. There’s a joke that describes the effects of playing a country song backwards: Your spouse returns, your dog is resurrected, and your truck starts working again. I wish that surrender to God worked the same way.

This is the crux of my dilemma. I want to know that my issues will be heard. I understand full well those things probably will not be heard. I will continue to be ignored. Being ignored is the worst. I would rather be confronted. Being ignored has made me angry. I am looking for a guarantee in my resolution. That is not my call. So, I must roll my burden onto the Lord without a guarantee of “resolution.” How fair is that?

Here is the conclusion of the article:

I have a choice. I can wear myself out pushing the boulders of my life around my prison yard. Or I can be meek, and roll those burdens onto God. I’m not sure exactly what Jesus meant when he said the meek will “inherit the earth,” but I’ve certainly discovered that this world is a better place when I roll it off my shoulders and into his hands.

There is a leaning on the grace of God that keeps getting tested. I think I keep failing.