Sometimes you read a blog and feel you know its writer. Spilled: Because My Cup Overflows is one of those bloggers for me. After reading about her boys and the joy and challenges they bring I feel I know her. Her writing flows. Her pictures draw you in to take a peek into her family life. You are so going to love the guest post she wrote. I have walked in her shoes and want to choose to wear them in a new way just as she has.
I never thought of myself as an angry person.
According to all the stories my parents–and others who knew me in those days–tell me of my growing-up years, I was a calm, easy-going, eager-to-please child who never threw temper tantrums and who got along well with siblings and friends. When I lived in San Diego as a young married woman and had to learn to drive on busy, multi-lane highways (so different from the country roads surrounding my parents’ home, where the biggest traffic challenge was passing the horses and buggies of Old Order Mennonites!), I didn’t experience the road rage that is so common in southern California. Even when we lived in Israel and dealt with the frustrations of life in an intense foreign culture, my husband was the one who occasionally blew his top and vented his anger on, for example, a landlord who wasn’t doing anything about the lack of electricity in our apartment, in the middle of a scorching summer, in a very hot climate, in which our young son was suffering (albeit mildly) because of the landlord’s negligence.
I don’t intend, by these examples, to give the impression that I was perfect in this area and never got frustrated; but I do believe it’s fair to say that anger wasn’t one of my besetting sins.
But then I had children. And, as we all know, that changes everything.
When exactly did my struggle with anger begin? When my first child was a baby? No, I
don’t think so. I may have been extra-tired and overly-worried, but I don’t remember my frustration level being through the roof. I do know, however, that by the time my first child was a preschooler and my second a toddler, I had a problem: a daily struggle with anger.
To be honest, I didn’t even like to admit it was anger. “I’m stressed!” I would say. “I feel really frustrated!” But at the root of that, when I was transparent enough to peel off the false labels I attached to it, lay an ugly, rotten, pile of…yes…anger.
Thankfully, my anger was controlled by some heavy-duty fences, and those boundaries stayed intact: no physical violence against my children, no calling them names, no yelling and screaming and cursing. But there was one tell-tale sign that I couldn’t cover up, no matter how hard I tried to maintain a facade of being calm, cool, and collected.
There was an edge in my voice. Kids are smart, you know? It didn’t take my sons long to realize that when they heard that particular tone,Mommy was mad.
Is there anything more heart-breaking than asking your children what they see in you that you should change and hearing them say, “Your harsh words”? How many times have I apologized to a sad-hearted child–”I’m sorry I spoke harshly to you”–and heard the quiet response, “That’s OK, Mommy. I forgive you”?
In the years since I first admitted to myself that, when it came to my children, I had an anger problem, I have searched for the answer, the solution to my wrath, the antidote to the poison-before it does lasting harm to my children (of whom there are now four–all dearly-loved boys! ). I haven’t discovered a magic cure, but I have found grace for the journey. And sometimes, a light breaks forth and shines unexpectedly, providing illumination for the next step of the path to peaceful motherhood. Here is my latest insight…
One day recently, I began my morning by having this question pop into my head: Is there anything so important today that would justify me getting angry with my children? Is there any meeting or appointment so vital that it would be better for me to get that horrible edge in my voice as I rushed my children along rather than be late to it? Is there any household task so essential that it would validate my frustration if my sons interrupt or distract me from it? Is there anything–ANYTHING at all–crucial enough to be worth the cost of me getting angry?
Because there is a cost. There always is, usually paid in the downcast glances and slumped shoulders of little ones whose hearts bleed silently when Mommy speaks harshly.
When I ask myself those questions, the answer is painfully obvious. No! There is nothing that important! The cost of anger is too high; I refuse to pay it.
Because of that decision, I am better equipped to pause life for a moment as I go into my dressing room, so to speak–to shed the garments of stress and anxiety and pressure and frustration and anger, and to clothe myself with, as Paul instructs us in Colossians 4:12, “tenderhearted mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.”
Forget name brands–those are the kinds of clothes I long for! 🙂
What are you longing for?
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Thank you so much for the opportunity to do this. Writing this spurred my thoughts on the subject, and it’s wonderful how much more conscious I’ve been about my tone of voice recently. 🙂
Have a wonderful day!
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JDaniel4’s Mom
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I have learned some of those same lessons. The thing about anger is that it is so contagious! Thanks for the wonderful post to remind us how others (especially our kids) perceive anger in us.
Thank you! I’m going to practice shedding my anger.
That is one of the things I have struggled with, a lot in previous months when Marie was younger and less settled. Thanks, Davene, for this insight.
You are right.
Our thoughts, our deeds, our words…all must be deliberate.
Intentional.
Love this post. Wow. My son is only 11-weeks old, and I can already sense that anger is going to be a problem for me. It’s amazing what lack of sleep – and lack of control – can turn me into. Thank you for this glimpse. I needed this today.
Great post. I always thought of myself as being patient and graceful, but my 5 month old has tested me from day one. I can’t believe how angry I get sometimes over a missed nap, feeling like my whole life is going to be like that one day. Fruits of the Spirit–a good reminder.
Great post! I couldn’t imagine myself as an angry person either and I do believe that we all should! Life is too short to spend with anger!