A meditation on anger

I've been meaning to write this one for a long time now, but, well, life happens.

A few months back I was on a retreat. It was a great time. Lots of new people, lots of drinking. Not so much new info, but free room, board, and drinks.

There was a gentleman on the retreat, who's name I now forget. Long story short, he was married. Had two kids. Seemed like a really nice guy. One night, while drinking and partying, this gentleman got mauled by two girls on the retreat. They were shamelessly hitting on him. They knew he was married, but didn't seem to care. One was all over him. He resisted at first, but he was loaded and eventually stopped resisting so hard. He did not make out with or sleep with either girl. I ended up walking him back to his cabin, and then returning to the party.

The point of this story is what was going on in my head during the incident.

I was angry. Furiously, unbelievably, angry. Angrier than I have been in a very long time. So angry it was hard to breath. Granted I had been drinking, a lot, but I am not an angry drunk.

My anger perplexed me.

But as I walked, holding my anger out to God, it started to make some sense.