Blindsided by Anger

For those of you following Scott's and my story, I wanted to share a little cuddle talk from the other night.

Scott: I want to grow old with you and be like the little old couples holding hands when they walk.

Me: Me too. I want to grow old with you.  I'll help you find your glasses and you can help me find my teeth.

(Imagine quiet snickers.)


Three years ago, three months ago, even three weeks ago I would not have imagined having that sweet exchange with Scott.  But, three weeks ago something changed.  Scott suggested I write a story.

Now, I'm a poet, an essayist, and, potentially, a reality blogger.  However, a fiction writer I am not. When I write it is real and often raw. But, thinking it would restore to us some connection, I began a story.  I started it to be a re-telling of a particularly traumatic time in my married life. Whether the writing is even tolerable remains to be seen.  However, what began to glare back at me as I looked at the words I was scrawling on the paper was a heart seething with anger and broken from holding onto all the injustices, real and imagined, that had been building up for over 20 years.

At first the remembrances of the hurts seemed to justify the tone of anger.  I should be angry over those things. Who wouldn't be? And then the reality came crashing down. I was still angry.  Not the kind that extinguishes itself after several minutes of cursing and yelling, like when you hit your thumb with the hammer.  No, this was that silent, poisonous, glossed over, pretend it's not there kind of anger.  The kind that seeps into the darkest parts of your heart and mind, blends in, feels normal, and yet, year by year turns a heart into bitter, jagged, poisoned shards that has lost true compassion, tenderness, and love.

I was angry...and my anger had been changing me. My anger had caused me to find most of what Scott did unacceptable and offensive and caused me to feel that nothing was ever going to change. Every conversation was an argument and enjoying or even relating to each other had long since vanished.

Still, I had been praying, as I have for lots of things during the course of our marriage.  Most recently it had been for God to change me however he had to in order to save our marriage. In fact, it was a version of that same prayer repeated in Clyde's (our wonderful, now retired pastor) living room. And in an instant, a mere breath it became clear to me that my anger was the issue. Not our differences, not our beliefs, not personal choices (except if they hurt the other)...my anger.

It was consuming me, making me miserable, Scott miserable, our kids miserable.

The only cure for anger is forgiveness. It can be suppressed and repressed by efforts of the will, but to destroy anger takes more than just willpower.

I had to forgive Scott.  FORGIVE!

I wasn't sure if I could.

It wasn't like Scott had not sought forgiveness; he had.  And, I thought I had forgiven him. I just didn't realize that I hadn't.

What does it mean to forgive?  It's something that I thought I knew.  I've taught my children how to seek forgiveness and offer it, while all the time being blind to my own lack of forgiveness.  I know how to forgive.  It is a concept instilled in me since childhood.  My Christian faith is founded on forgiveness - the forgiveness of my sins offered to me by God through the sacrifice of Jesus.  This aspect of Christianity may be an idea that is foreign to some and dismissed by others, but its influence on my life is irrefutable.

I always thought I could forgive easily.  It's what I am called to do because it has been done for me. What a rude awakening to realize that what I thought was forgiveness was only acknowledging my hurt and agreeing that yes, the other person needs to ask forgiveness.  Over the years, each time Scott hurt me with words, actions, or behaviors, I actually said to him, "I forgive you." Yet, those right words hid a pain that without healing would later morph into the anger that brought us to a breaking point several months ago.

I had buried the hurt under layers of other hurts.  Hurt seemed normal and despite my faith, biblical training, and upbringing, I was totally heart ignorant of my place in relationship with God. My head knew, but my heart decried this truth: I am a heir (brother/sister) with Christ of God's love and favor. Therefore God sees me as his daughter clothed in righteousness, completely loved, and fully forgiven, not worthless, not forgotten, not deserving of hurt upon hurt.

When Scott called me selfish several weeks back, he was right.  His words reminded me that not only had I been selfish towards him, but selfish towards Christ, in both instances because of my own arrogance.  An arrogance revealed in the plain and simple fact that I had and have a hard time seeing (believing/accepting) that I hurt others.  No wonder I couldn't forgive. It's hard to do when you don't truly see the need for yourself.  I mean, I knew that I sinned (and still do) and that I need Jesus to forgive me.  But, something in that moment made me realize the unimaginable hurt that my sin caused Jesus, his unbelievable grace in accepting my sin as his own, and his undeserved mercy in forgiving me for it.  That is Love.

This same love I was denying to my husband.  My unwillingness to let go of the pain. My unwillingness to see him as God sees him and me. My unwillingness to forgive him for pain so much less than what Christ endured.  It was selfish.

Emotional pain that is not healed turns to anger and bitterness. Consult your favorite psychologist for why this is so.  My anger was something I could no longer contain.  And. to deny it any longer was a death sentence for my marriage.

I can't explain how it happened. No flashing lights or sirens disturbed the night, just the sound of my own crying. I just cried out to God. "Please help me to forgive Scott. Please come in and heal the hurt. Please help me to love him. Please take my anger away. Please remind me of the wonderful man you led into my life."

And he did.

I might have to pray that prayer many more times. I might not. Spiritual growth is a journey with highs and lows like any other.

What I know for sure, right now, is that I am no longer angry or bitter with Scott. I see my husband through new eyes. I know that he is wonderful, that we are both forgiven by the blood of Christ, that we love each other and want to grow old together.

This verse puts into context the way that God is transforming me and will continue to everyday.

"Let there be no more resentment, no more anger or temper, no more violent self-assertiveness, no more slander and no more malicious remarks, Be kind to each other, be understanding. Be as ready to forgive others as God for Christ’s sake has forgiven you."

- from the Phillips Translation - Ephesians 4:32

Scott Roche: This Wonderful Man

Let me tell you about a wonderful man.  This man has a heart that desperately loves those marginalized by others.  He desires to create a community where all people are valued and celebrated as God's handiwork. He does not let differences in beliefs, values, or opinions stand in his way of demonstrating how the human condition is characterized by a search for belonging. He uses his gift of writing to feature unlikely heroes seeking what we all do - love and acceptance.

He is a man with a great sense of humor.  He loves to laugh and be silly.  He draws people in with a broad smile, twinkling eyes, and an incredible left eyebrow arch. (That's how he caught my heart 💘)

He has a sensitive side that sneaks out when you least expect it.  He has a soft spot for babies and puppies, not necessarily in that order. He has patience with them that I could only dream of. His grace abounds.  And, you've never seen sexy until you've seen a burly, bearded, kilted man cuddling and cooing to a baby!

He is a courageous man who acknowledges his own identity and championing others to celebrate theirs in a culture where different is often seen as wrong.  He has confidence that Christ on the cross and resurrected to glory is greater than the differences that threaten to separate people.

He is an honorable promise keeper, owning his failures and striving to improve. He has been faithful in sickness and in health, for richer and poorer, in better times and in times of seeming endless struggle. (Ask him to tell you his story, our story. You might agree that he has done what many men might not. You might also agree that I owe him debts that I can never repay. I do and I can't; but, he has shown me grace upon grace.)

He is a seeker of what is good, beautiful, positive, and redemptive in a world of sin, decay, and destruction. He presumes little, seeks understanding, and finds things to love in most. (Hey, no one is perfect:-)) I know he does this because I am living proof.  I can say with confidence that recently he has had to look very deeply to find much good in me.

Why do I share this with the world? Because, I want him to know and the world to know that he is wonderful. For most of our marriage I have not been his cheerleader. My fear, cynacism, legalism, and pessimism have seeped, and at times poured out over him, tormenting him, isolating him, and quenching the twinkle from his eye.

Why do I share this with the world? Because, I am on a journey of discovery, a new discovery of my husband and a new discovery of myself. I'm devastated to learn and shamed by the knowledge that most of what makes my husband wonderful is missing in me. I have actively and passively fought against him.  All the time thinking it was him who needed to change.

He is not perfect, nor will he be this side of Heaven.  But, his change is no longer my prayer. He is wonderful right now, today. He will be wonderful tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. For he is a masterpiece still being created daily by God.  My prayer is for my change - radical, upending, life-altering change.

He told me last night that I am and always have been selfish. (We were in a safe place with wise counsel.) He is right. I am and I have been. I have masked it in legalism, a suffocating weight of shoulds and should nots.  I wear a costume of Christianity hiding, not so well, my hypocrisy of loving the rules, but not being ruled by love.  Instead, I have wanted him to love the "right" way, my way. And, truthfully, to love only me. This...this has crushed my husband and nearly ruined our marriage.

And this...this is why my husband is wonderful.  He is ruled by love.  He blesses others because he loves them, He blesses me because he loves me.  My husband is a lover learning how to love more everyday.

I want to be like him.

That's what he needs to know; and maybe, just maybe, someone else, struggling  like we are, needs to know it too.