Today is a day I actually take a shower, comb my hair, and apply extended lash mascara. Even though I appear put together, I have been battling health issues and I don’t feel very good. The antibiotics make my skin itchy and my stomach queasy. I press forward anyway, because that’s what mamas have to do.
I unload the girls, hustle them into school, and return to my car. The sun is blaring, my 3-year-old is fussing, and did I mention I wasn’t feeling great? I backup and crash…bang! I hear my bumper crinkling against someone else’s. Oh yes, sweet sisters, I backed into another mama’s car at 8:35 a.m. Perfect!
God, can’t I just go back to bed and start over?
Later, I sit in my scuffed up car and wipe the tears from my eyes. I unload. I wail. If there had been more room, I may have kicked my legs too. A 36-year-old tantrum isn’t pretty, but it feels good.
I look in my rear-view mirror. What do I notice first? My over-exaggerated anger, my mascara stained face, or perhaps just a girl who enjoys getting mad.
To be brutally honest, I threw an all out hissy fit in my car. Proverbs 27:16.
Definition of hissy fit– tossing up hands, clenching a fist or two, full on neck jerks, a crimson colored face, and perhaps even a grinding jaw …sounds scary, don’t you think? Somehow in a matter of minutes, I change from frazzled to ferocious.
Don’t you miss those “lunch-box-days” where we could get away with pitching fits and no one cared? Sure, we may have gotten a swift kick in the pants, but no one was scarred for life. Now as an adult, I have to set the example, be the example, and live out the example…no more fits allowed.
I felt God whisper, “Throw on your armor. Reject the hissy fit. Recite the verse…Proverbs 29:11.
If you are like me, even a little bit, then getting mad sometimes feels good. When the world throws dirt balls in your face and you just can’t take it anymore, how do you react? I’m usually a bit more composed but a girl can only take so much. Even grace girls have limits.
I don’t want to be a rambunctious fool — I do want to be the quiet, wise one this time. I wipe away the gloppy black mascara with my McDonald’s napkin that still smells like French fries and drive home.
Do you sometimes struggle with anger? What helps you?
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