Letting Go

I lost my temper last night.

I didn't yell. I didn't throw stuff. I did, however, utter a few exquisitely barbed words.

And worse than that, I was boiling inside.

I walked it off before doing any real damage, but after wards, felt that deflating sting of regret.

Why do I insist on fighting battles that won't change a thing? Why am I so confoundedly certain that I am right and if I just argue about it, I will change someone's mind?

Perhaps the difference between foolishness and discernment is the ability to distinguish which battles are worth fighting. And wisdom is letting go of the rest?

Some battles are just not worth being bloodied over. Even if I'm right (which I am--wink,wink), I can be right until I'm blue in the face and still not have changed a thing.

And I have a sneaking suspicion that stubbornness is akin to pride which, as I recall, comes before a fall.

What do you do when you are faced with a situation that just never seems to get better? How do you resolve your frustration without sinning in anger? Please share.