BLACKLISTED
I have lists all over my house. I have lists of things to remember; lists of places to go; lists of things to do; budget lists; lists for the IRS; lists of people, their addresses, and phone numbers; gift lists; lists, lists, lists. Though I have lists to help me remember errands I need to run, when I go to do those things, I discover I've either forgotten or lost the list. But there's one list I would do well to forget, and that's the record of wrongs I keep tucked away in a dark corner of my heart. Every time I get tired, depressed, or stressed out, I pull out that list. I remind myself how I've been wronged, then throw myself a pity party or go sit on the pity potty. And when I am all done, do I feel better? There is a country song with a line that goes, "Go ahead and feel bad if it makes you feel better." But I never do feel better. Why is that? If I store in my heart a "blacklist" of people who have wronged me, complete with details, it mak