I was livid. Not only had I been blamed for something that wasn't my fault, the accusation had been leveled in a public forum where I had little chance to defend myself. The heat of my ire was further stoked by the fact that I had clearly (in my mind) been the injured party. How dare anyone impugn my honor in such a manner?!

My first instinct was to jump into the fray with a fiery retort. That's what the natural man in me ached to do (see Mosiah 3:19). It's a good thing that I didn't have immediate access to the forum, because I would probably have followed that impulse. Doing so might have assuaged my carnal instinct to defend my reputation, but it would have led to nothing good.

Even as I fantasized about going the natural man route, I couldn't ignore the caution coming into my mind like a flashing warning light on a car dashboard accompanied by a dinging alarm. The words of Matthew 5:44 kept running through my mind, where The Savior says:

But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.

My inner natural man retorted, "But I'm right! Being charitable doesn't mean failing to correct falsehoods. Charity and truth must coexist in the same realm." Which sounds very high minded. But in reality I was feeling very little in the way of charity at the moment. I was all about being right and having the appearance of being right to my neighbors. I knew that extending forgiveness when offended is the bridge a Christian must cross to obtain mercy. But I was so sure I was right that I didn't see a need to even approach that bridge.

I went on about my day, but the issue continued to fester like an unscratched itch. Thinking of how the Lord had instructed Oliver Cowdery to correct Hiram Page in private (D&C 28:11-12), I thought it would probably be best for me just to visit the claimant and bury the hatchet. Unfortunately my schedule was too full for that. Besides, I was too chicken to do it.

Recalling The Savior's admonition to quickly agree with our adversaries (Matthew 5:25) and Paul's counsel to the Ephesians not to let the sun go down upon our wrath (Ephesians 4:26), I felt I should do something about the matter right away.

Finally I decided to jot down some thoughts. I have found that writing helps me organize and analyze my own thinking. It doesn't reveal all my blind spots or grant complete objectivity, but it tends to nudge me in that direction; maybe because I start to think about what the words would look like to an outside party.

A letter formed as I wrote. The letter was cordial, but sharp and clear about what had actually happened. I'm not using sharp in that sentence as a synonym for clarity. I mean that the tone of the letter had a sharp edge to it.

I put the letter in an envelope. When I had a brief break in duties I made my way to the location of the person that had complained, intending to drop off the letter. But I just couldn't do it. Something didn't feel right about it.

The rest of the day and evening were completely scheduled. That helped push my anger to the back burner. But it didn't help me agree with my adversary quickly. Indeed, the sun went down upon my wrath. But now I'll tell you why that was a good thing.

I seldom have insomnia. But I awoke in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep. So I prayed and listened. A quiet whisper told me that I needed to shred the letter I had written. In my mind's eye I was able to catch an inkling of how the situation in question must have appeared to the other person. My anger evaporated when I realized that I could easily have responded similarly had I been in their shoes. As I pondered I came to understand that it would be OK for me to write a letter, but that every single phrase needed to be composed with the thought, "What would Jesus say?"

My biting letter met the shredder early the next day. After the busy hours of the day, I sat down to compose a new letter. I still felt hurt about being accused in public, even if it was all a misunderstanding. Still, I focused on writing words Jesus would write. The end result was still probably far from that goal, but the conciliatory letter was devoid of counter accusations. I asked for the other person's help to improve. By the time I finished with best wishes for this person and their family, I truly meant it with complete sincerity.

On my way to deliver the note I had a spiritual prompting telling me not to deliver it without attaching a treat. In fact, a pretty clear picture of a specific treat formed in my head. (Still not sure why that specific treat was needed.) I knew that this didn't come from my personal genius, because it's not something I would naturally do. Delivering treat laden notes seems more like something women are prone to do.

I needed to make a run to the store anyway, so obtaining the treat was included in that errand. The Spirit even prodded me to do something to make the package a little more beautiful. After dropping off the package I was filled with charity toward the individual. I felt good, warm, and light. Although I had no idea how the matter would turn out, I knew I had done the right thing.

A couple of days later I was approached by the recipient of my note. We had a very nice chat. In fact, I would say that it was a beautiful experience. I learned some things about this person that I had not known and I felt a strong desire to find a way to serve them. There is a deep goodness in this person.

Sometimes we read only the last part of Ephesians 4:26, where Paul essentially tells us to get over our anger quickly. In KJV the first part of this scripture says, "Be angry, but sin not." The JST, however, renders this portion of the verse, "Can ye be angry, and not sin?" This seems more consistent with Paul's directive to overcome our anger quickly.

Brigham Young said, "There is a wicked anger, and there is a righteous anger. The Lord does not suffer wicked anger to be in his heart...." Most of the time when I'm angry, it's not the kind of anger that is approved by the Holy Ghost. Quite the opposite. Unrighteous anger is sin. Brigham Young likened these kinds of strong emotions to wild horses that must be properly controlled. He said:

Some think and say that it makes them feel better when they are mad, as they call it, to give vent to their madness.... This, however, is a mistake. Instead of its making you feel better, it is making bad worse.

Anger is often likened to fire because it feels like that inside. And burn it does. Like a wildfire, it burns up precious moments and relationships, leaving behind scorched patches of soul that may take years to regenerate.

While I very much appreciate Paul's words about quelling this fire quickly, in my case it seems like letting the sun go down upon my wrath was the right thing to do this time around. Taking time to respond in a more appropriate manner allowed the sun of wrath to set and the cool of the night to put out the fire.

What I'm really describing here is repentance. Although I felt I was right when my anger initially flared, I knew inside that my passionate indignation was not virtuous. It took me a while to admit it. By praying I enabled Christ to extinguish my sin of anger. By following the Spirit's promptings, The Savior was able to change my heart. The ill will I felt completely gave way to sacred charity.

Changing hearts to become more like His is one of the greatest miracles Jesus Christ can perform, thanks to His atonement. How grateful I am that this miracle is accessible to each of us as often as we need it.


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