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So Mad…

July 22, 2013


Oh, how I could have used this advice last night.

I got an email just before bed that made me mad.  (Why do I check email just before bed?  Why?)  It made me so mad that I laid awake till 2 am stewing about it. It made me so mad that I dreamed about it for the rest of the night.  It made me so mad that I woke up grumpy and out of sorts.  It made me so mad that I was, um, really embarrassed when I found out it was a simple misunderstanding.  In words I use with Shane and Eric, I “wasted a big fuss” over nothing.

And the humbling truth is, even if the situation was indeed how it seemed in that fateful email, it still would not have justified the hissy fit I threw.  Ask My husband.  He’ll vouch for that.

I know.   “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.”

Well, I was quick to listen.  Does email reading count as listening in this techno-age?

And I was slow to speak, if you don’t count the livid tirade I let loose as I brought my hubby up-to-date.  I did not fire off a nasty email.  Nor did I send a precisely worded text message or leave a scathing answerphone message. I mean it was, after all, midnight.

So the only person who knew about my rage was myself.  And my sweet husband, who had nothing to do with it.  And now you.  And the only person hurt by it was myself.  Four hours of stress-dream sleep does not make for a refreshed mind and spirit the next day.

So it wasn’t a complete spiritual train wreck.  But wow.  I didn’t read my scheduled Bible section for the day because I didn’t want to read about loving others as Christ loved us.  I wanted to read the Psalms.  You know.  The ones where David asks God to sift his enemies like chaff blown away in the wind.  Hey, it’s in there.  I read Proverbs, instead, and a very dry read it was.

I so wish I could have lived the slow to become angry part.  I’m happy that it turned out okay, but I’m ashamed of myself.  Thankfully, we have a loving Father God who forgives us, just as we forgive our children after they mess it up in the growing up process.

Lord, I was immature and threw a tantrum.  Please forgive me for allowing anger to control my thoughts.  Thank You for keeping me from writing any texts or emails.  The next time I am inconvenienced or put upon, help me to bear it with more grace and dignity, and I will know it is Your strength working in my weakness.

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