Anger & Expectations

Written from the deep, hidden places of my heart.

Praying my words speak to your heart. 

When anger rears its head

A persistent idea has continued to mull around my mind and heart. Unfortunately this "idea" is not just philosophical, but very practical and real. 

Expectations. Me. Anger.

When circumstances and potential are in place for life to flow freely and without pressures, life is so sweet. 

BUT, the moment an EXPECTATION creeps into my vision and spirit, it's as though another side of myself wipes away the contented, grateful spirit... like an eraser set to turbo speed. 

Emerging instead is the side of me that seems to struggle under my own skin, itching to be rid of the imperfections that glare all around me. 

All I can see are the 

flaws

defects

deficiencies

blemishes

faults

shortcomings

weaknesses

insufficiencies

IMPERFECTIONS. 

Appearing all around me are sudden, all-essential "needs." And I have expectations of myself to accomplish them now. Right now. 

(And am mad that they're not already completed!)

aspirations

ambitions

objectives

targets

desires

wants

wishes

vision

EXPECTATIONS.

And I have learned, especially this past week, that when I become overwhelmed by my expectations, ugliness rears itself in the form of Anger. Impatience. Selfishness.

-When on the verge of running late (so often this way)...

-When a child, ever-so-slowly, may-or-may-not make his way toward you after being called...

-When a boy steps his new sandals into a deep puddle after being warned against...

-When sets of elbows are continually nudging into your ribs on a hot afternoon...

-When a content baby becomes suddenly discontent after being startled by an older brother...

-When (time and again) the same toy's ownership is being fought over...

-When a boy will not open his mouth at a dentist's appointment...

-When a boy will not close his mouth during a church service...

-When a just-mopped floor becomes dirt-covered and sticky in seconds...
-When I envision a magazine "house-perfect" scene with no clutter or dust, but just doesn't happen in this home filled with children and everyday life.

Much anger comes from a change: Quiet to chaos. Peace to mess. Work undone. Resulting in repetition and saved-up time snatched away from me. What I feel entitled to being taken away. Stolen! Or so it seems. 

James 4:1-2: "What causes fights and quarrels among you? Don't they come from your desires that battle within you? You want something but don't get it." 

But what are we entitled to? Anything at all?

Working, to receive a reward: money, a treat, peace, time. Peaceful time. (A precious treasure to this momma of young ones!) But what happens when the reward is postponed, washed away by others' needs? 

"Look at your most uncontrollable emotions... look for your idols at the bottom of painful emotions, especially those that never seem to lift and that drive you to do things you know are wrong. If you are angry, ask, "Is there something here too important to me, something I am telling myself I have to have at all costs?" (Timothy Keller, "Counterfeit Gods")

And those who are the witnesses of my inner struggle? The little ones who see their momma in all her imperfection. The ones I hold so dear and deeply desire to become men of strength and integrity and self-control and balance. And love.

More times than I can count, just in this past week, anger has fought within to emerge and reign supreme in my thinking and handling of "those moments" of life.

So where is the hope? I certainly want a solution, a fix. I would rather solve a problem immediately than labor over it with my words and worries. 

But. 

Realistically, this is a struggle that will continue all my days. (We all have our personal areas we suffer under and desire to master, do you agree?)

So how to not give up?

I talk. To myself. Or, rather to my God, who actually cares about this struggle in the life of this one, simple momma. Oh, the conversations that go on inside this girl! 

To remember there are promises for me in the Word. Just to seek them out, like attainable treasure.

I read thoughts from others, farther down the path of maturity than me. But knowing I'm not alone in the struggle. Inspiration from shared vulnerabilities. 

"Instead of ranting... I talked to God. I've learned that when I humble myself before God and respectfully talk to Him about a matter, He really does give me grace, to ease my anger. It's a grace that prevents a small gust of anger from turning into a destructive tornado of emotion." (Annie Chapman) 

"Idolatry is not just a failure to obey God, it is a setting of the whole heart on something besides God... Jesus must become more beautiful to your imagination, more attractive to your heart, than your idol. That is what will replace the idols of your heart." (Timothy Keller)

"Houses may be bought, built, or borrowed. But homes can only be made, and that with bits of ourselves. Mother ducks puck feathers from their chests to line their nests. She lines the nest with bits of herself. The best of her, from the deep spots. She cups her young in her sacrifice. When will I learn that down sacrificed settles and soothes? Mother ducks don't line nests with feathers, dirty and trampled, the molted and unnecessary. Nests need feathers fresh, warm with a mother's life. Prayers to Him who plucked hard from His own heart. A sacrifice, staggering a true, for love of His very own. We learn love from His laid down." (Ann Voskamp, "What a Mother Must Sacrifice")

I must take minutes to be outside. Alone. Even for briefest of moments to breathe deeply. In nature, away from everything created by human hands. Instead surrounded by the perfection of God's undisturbed, unbroken, lovely design.

And I laugh. Reminding myself to sometimes just shake my head and let a smile in. (Maybe even one of those giggles that may also somehow include tears.) 

Is this fellow hopeful-struggler ever open to a conversation with you; to receive the gift of your understanding, words, views, heart.

Blessings.