The Letter I Never Sent

There apparently was a third Pauline letter to the Corinthians. Somewhere, it went missing. No one knows what it contained except the Holy Spirit, who decided it was not in our best interests to have it.

Let me tell you about the letter I never sent.

I was offended, hurt, hard done by, angry, and humiliated. If you had any human emotion, you would have been, too. I had been betrayed in the worst possible way. It stung!

I shared the issue with my mentor/advisor, pouring out the pain, stating my case, crying the ‘blues,’ and expressing my intent. I was in the right, and I could prove it – I should prove it. I needed to vindicate my integrity and protect my reputation. I would meet with this brother in the presence of witnesses. I would slice and dice until he felt the same level of pain I was feeling. Being relatively creative with words, I prepared the lines to cut him off at the knees. I would deal with this “Alexander the Coppersmith” and do it directly.

My mentor heard my diatribe in silence. Then the wise old sage gave me some advice I have carried with me ever since that day long ago. It has saved me from a few unnecessary skirmishes.

This is what he said:

“Pastor, I think you should write this fellow a letter. In that letter, tell him all the ways in which he has wronged you. Be honest with your pain, your hurts, your feelings. Tell him what you think of those underhanded tactics. Tell him how you are angry with him. Be sure you are thorough so he understands the issue from your side of the fence. Be certain that he is aware of the depth of the hurt he has caused. Hopefully, he will feel quite ashamed of himself. Then, pastor, I would recommend you sign that letter, put it in an envelope, address it, and stick it in the pages of your Bible for one week. In your time of personal devotion each day for that week, pray for that man for two minutes. Pray an audacious prayer! Pray that God will deal with him. At the end of the week, if you feel you want to send the letter, go ahead. Let him have it.”

I followed his advice. The letter was filled with angst and innuendo, pain and poison. All the Irishness and Germanness and humanness spilled onto those pages. It was a classic, and I felt good. I stuck it smugly into my Bible and waited for the week to pass. For the first few days, my prayer lacked enthusiasm and sincerity. But by the end of the week, something had subtly changed. I could not hold the rancour, anger, and malice I had for this man and pray for him with integrity. I realized that would be the height of hypocrisy. I actually began to see some of the reasons he had acted as he did, and my heart softened.

My petition went to heaven, my blessing went to the offender, my letter went to the shredder, and I went free.

Since that time, there have been a number of letters I have never sent.

“Bless them that persecute you; bless and curse not.”

Praise God for the wise mentors that God places in our lives. Find one if you don’t have one! It could save you a great deal of grief.

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