Earnest Redeemer: Hello, Resentment. May I call you Res?
Resentment: Eh, sure.
E. I’m sorry I haven’t made enough space to hear you out before.
R. I’m not surprised. You never do.
Earnest takes a Moment
E. I… accept that rebuke. What are you upset about?
R. Everything!
E. That’s… a great start. Can you be more specific?
R. You’re a coward. You always default to folding. You never take the time to speak the truth. Or even hear it.
E. That’s… helpful. Can you share specific details?
R. Sure. You knew their plan was gonna cost us. You subconsciously knew — I sure as hell knew — it would blow our budget. But you blindly agreed to the lie that it wasn’t, to keep the peace.
E. So… you’re actually angry at ME, not them.
R. Damn straight. Look, people are people. They are who they are. But I need you to be who we are. That is the only way anything will ever get better.
I need you to be who we are. That is the only way anything will ever get better.
Resentment
Earnest takes another Moment
E. Okay, that makes a lot of sense. Can you help me understand what “being us” might look like in the next Crucial Conversation?
R. Well, the first step is this. Hearing and validating all my/our concerns, without judgement.
E. Okay. Anything else for the first step?
R. Yeah. I want YOU to admit I was right. Not them. You.
E. That… is totally fair. You were right to be concerned about the cost. You are right about that being healthy requires us to close the loop, and acknowledge both the pain and damage and the hard truth that it could have been prevented.
R. Thank you.
E. Unfortunately, it feels like I’m in almost the same place I was last time. I don’t know how to bring up conflicting opinions on sensitive topics without doing more harm than good.
R. What harm?
E. Ah. Great question. Well, saying something defensive — or, well, resentful — that would trigger them.
R. Why would you do that?
E. Er, I assumed because of you…
R. [snorting] Not even close. Your problem is that you try to appease me, the same way you do them. Don’t blame me for that.
E. Huh. If that’s the case, then maybe I need to instead be talking to the “Appeaser” inside me.
Appeaser: Hello
E. Hello. Can I call you “App” or “Appy”?
A. Actually, I prefer “Peas.”
E. Huh. Okay. Somehow I thought you’d be more, well, accommodating.
A. [chuckles] That’s actually a common misconception. In fact, I am extremely punctilious.
E. Huh?
A. Concerned with making sure every smallest detail is done correctly. I am in fact one of your hardest taskmasters. I will whip you mercilessly if it is necessary to accomplish my purpose.
E. Yikes! What kind of purpose demands such drastic action?
A. Survival, as always. Preventing loss of cohesion, either internal or external, is basically Job One of any organism. I’m the part that makes you swallow your pride to avoid offending an unconquerable foe. But also makes you blurt out awkward truths to prevent a vital internal part from dying.
E. That sounds… complicated. Perhaps even… contradictory?
A. [sighing] Well, it is impossible to please everyone all at once. The best I can hope for is to let everyone have their turn, and pray it doesn’t all fall apart when I’m looking elsewhere.
E. Huh. Stop right there.
A. At praying?
E. No. Yes. I mean, I meant to stop you at impossible. But now I’m curious. Whom do you pray to?
E. Hmm. Not sure if “naturally” is what we need. Anyway, back to impossible. Precisely which aspect of your job seems impossible?
A. Not seems, is. I must always choose a context in which to appease. Those inside the circle, I focus on the simplest concession that will make them happy — by ignoring what’s outside the circle.
E. Ah, that makes sense. If you make the circle too big, you can never find a simple solution. So there will always be some “spillover,” no matter where you draw the circle.
A. Or the circle never gets drawn, and everyone ends up stuck, unhappy, and unable to move forward. I don’t promise long-term fixes — if such a thing even exists! — but I am extremely good at solving short-term conflict.
R. Hey, I resent that! I don’t think you ever solve anything.
E. [interrupting] Um, what if we changed that to “defusing” short- term conflict. Peas may not remove all (or any) of the explosive emotional powder, but at least he snips off the fuse to delay the inevitable.
R. Eh, I suppose I can live with that.
A. [sadly] That’s… the best I can ever hope for.
E. [muttering] Maybe… or maybe not.
A. Come again?
E. Peas, you believe in Christ, right?
A. Of course.
E. But do you know Him? Have a relationship with Him?
A. I…. not especially. He’s more of an ideal.
E. Maybe what you need isn’t a bigger circle, but something three-dimensional.
R. Like an egg!
E. Um, sure.
A. But how would that help?
R. Ooh! Ooh! I know this one. You’re saying Peas needs to draw a circle that includes Jesus, as the third dimension. Because Jesus won’t let Peas make a concession that disrespects anyone outside the circle.
E. Or if He does, then He is on the hook — or cross — to deal with it. Yeah.
A. Huh. Y’know, that just might work. But how do I get to know Him?
E. Let’s start right now.
Dear Jesus,
I bring you the orphaned parts of me that don’t know they can trust you. My Appeaser, that oscillates between ignoring and placating Self and Others. My Resentment at the times I felt my values were being disregarded, even if it was for the greater good.
Thank you that through your Cross you are making all things new. Please reveal the depths of your love and sacrifice to all of me, they we might find true communion with you, and share it with those outside.
Radically Happy 
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