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

Faith is Not a Vocabulary Test

My students get ten weekly vocabulary words that are on "the Tier 2 list". These are defined as high frequency words used by mature language users across several content areas.  Because of their lack of redundancy in oral language, Tier 2 words present challenges to students who primarily meet them in print.  Examples of Tier 2 words are obvious, complex, establish and verify.

Most of my students have only heard four or five of the words and rarely or never use them in everyday conversation.  They devote precious time to memorizing the definitions and learning to pronounce them correctly.  At the end of the week 90 percent or so will pass the test, which asks them to match the word with the definition.

Seems great, huh?

Sure, until I change the format.  If I give them sentences where only one each of the words will fit and they have to choose a word based on the context of the sentence, 50 percent will fail.

But they know the definition.  So, what's the dilemma?

The conundrum my students face is the same one that stumps many of us daily, the disparity between recognition and metacognition.

Recognition is what my students have when they can see a word and recall the definition or even ideas associated with the word.  As adults we have words that we can read, pronounce, define, and connect to similar ideas.  Words like faith, peace, justice, fear, guilt, acceptance, forgiveness, and love are part of our lexicon.  Unlike some of my students and their words, we can even use these in conversation in ways that sound good and make sense.  We can recognize the patterns and associations common to these words.  Yet, we still can not understand them.

Understanding takes metacognition.  "Metacognition is, put simply, thinking about one’s thinking. More precisely, it refers to the processes used to plan, monitor, and assess one’s understanding and performance. Metacognition includes a critical awareness of a) one’s thinking and learning and b) oneself as a thinker and learner." (Chick, 2017) "Metacognitive practices increase students’ abilities to transfer or adapt their learning to new contexts and tasks (Bransford, Brown, & Cocking, p. 12; Palincsar & Brown, 1984; Scardamalia et al., 1984; Schoenfeld, 1983, 1985, 1991).  They do this by gaining a level of awareness above the subject matter: they also think about the tasks and contexts of different learning situations and themselves as learners in these different contexts." (Chick, 2017)

My students have difficulty with metacognition.  They will memorize a definition, but not stop to ask themselves if they understand the definition.  When presented with situations that force them to think beyond the definition, or put the definition into practice, a lack of understanding becomes painfully obvious.  The frustrating part for me is teasing the students into thinking.  Many students think they are thinking, when they are just repeating information drilled into them through various drill and kill activities.  Thinking takes time, energy, and offers substantial risk for failure.

How often do we as adults repeat conditioned responses without stopping to ask ourselves anything?

Be honest...how often do you think about the words you use that define who you are or are part of what you say you believe?

Do you truly understand the definition of the words you use?  Can you apply the words to situations outside of your normal everyday experience? Do you stop to think, am I living, doing, and expressing what the words mean so that people not familiar with the word could learn what it means from me?

I am reflecting on this because I want to challenge myself to live more deliberately.  I want the words I use, attitudes I show, and behaviors I display to match what I say I believe and understand.

Everyone can benefit from thinking about their thinking no matter their beliefs.

As a Christian, I believe it is crucial for my growth and imperative to my witness. In a recent post of mine, Ruined, I realized that I had been hurting people through my narrow understanding of some key Christian principles, including love, atonement, grace (although not stated as grace), hope, and forgiveness.  When I honestly analyzed my own beliefs, I discovered a deeply internalized thought process that dictated so much of my daily interactions.  Somehow, in my education and experience as a Christian I had "learned" I had to be perfect. Perfection meant rules. Rules I tried, but could never follow and thus developed fear and shame. Rules no one else could follow and thus developed self-righteous judgment.  This erroneous thought process totally skewed my understanding and application of the principles I said that I believed in, stunted my growth, and ruined my witness.

It was on my knees begging for restoration of myself, my marriage, my family that God seemed to prompt me to verbalize my no holds barred feelings about my faith, him, myself, and others.  I seemed to be hearing myself for the first time. Like a reporter conducting an interview.  Why? How does that match who God is? How does that show (fill in the blank)?  How can this thought and this one exist at the same time?

The glaring disparities between my understanding of God's love and my memorized teaching of God's love broke me. Broke me free from shackles that I didn't even know were keeping me prisoner.

Your story will be different from mine.  But, have you stopped lately, or ever, to think about your thinking - Your thinking about God, yourself, others?  The results will lead you to better understanding and might even lead you to breakthroughs of your own.

I challenge you to consider your own memorized faith.  Because, in the end, faith is not a vocabulary test.

Citations

Chick, Nancy. Metacognition. Retrieved from https://cft.vanderbilt.edu/guides-sub-pages/metacognition/

Ruined

I am ruined.  At least that is what it feels like. Not only am I ruined, all those I love I have ruined too. Yes, me. I've only been too blind to see it. Too weak to acknowledge it. Too stubborn to stop it.  How do I know?  Past evidence.

This is from a unpublished post over a year ago.  I wrote this referring to the man I deeply love, my husband.  However, my children could attest to this as well.

The Truth that Hurts:

He has always felt that I judge him for his choices, music, movies, writing subjects, etc., etc.  He feels like I've always wanted him to be someone different than he is.  He is hurt that I shame him, try to guilt him, and accuse him that his actions and choices make me question his salvation. (He has prayed for God to change this and other things about him and God has not.)  He feels that I do not and have not loved him unconditionally. That my loving my neighbor as I love myself doesn't extend to him.  He says God's grace is enough to cover a multitude of sins and different interpretations of the scriptures. And...He is right on all counts

The truth about myself stares me in the face.  I know that it is true.  And a year later, nothing about me has changed.  Another fight. Another night in the depths of sharing what has hurt us.  The teary kind with no screaming or yelling, just the bitter truths of all the unmets and undones.

But for the first time ever, I have seen that it is me.  Not me in the, "Oh! It's all my fault." kinda self-pitying schmuck that some want to wallow in.  It's me, really, and the ways that I chase my lover into hiding through insult, criticism, ridicule, contempt, and dishonor.  I complain how he is tuned out from me, from the family.  While it is me who chases him into the protective, loving arms of his facebook family.

How could I have been so blind and so stupid?

One could argue that it is because I am human.  That's a lame excuse at best. I know lots of humans that are much less blind and much less stupid.

My blindness and stupidity originate in my arrogance and my fear.  My belief that I am right usurps all others. And, of course, I am right because I am a Christian. And, the Bible is right and I base what I think is right on the Bible.  Not that what the Bible says is not right, or perhaps even arguable, but the judgment that I pass on anyone who believes differently than me is onerous.  It is a weight that neither they nor I can bear.

It is with sadness that I realize that I often retreat to isolation just so I don't have to disagree with anyone and deal with the emotional weight of judging them.  My thought process - There is only one right way and it's my responsibility to make sure they are on it.  That's called projection.  What's really on my mind - There is only one right way and if I don't do it the right way or think the right way about something, then God will punish me. I don't want to get punished and I don't want others to get punished either.

Punished.  17 years of Reformed theology and I am erroneously still trying to earn God's good graces and avoid his angry outbursts.

Truth. I have not understood how God loves me.  God loves me.  He loves me perfectly and completely.  I cannot make him love me more or less.  I am one with Christ, clothed in his righteousness.  My sins, past, present, and future are covered with Christ's atonement.  I cannot earn more atonement - It is comprehensive and permanent.  

Following the right rules, believing the right things, supporting the right ideas are not going to earn me anything more than what God has already promised.  Right is often open to interpretation, even within the church.  If my right is different from someone else's right, that's okay.  I have to say that again,  That's okay.  It's even okay if my right is wrong.  God still loves me.

He doesn't want me to sin.  He doesn't want others to sin,  Some sins are clear, others murky. What isn't murky, ever? I must love the Lord my God with all my heart, my soul, and my mind; and I must love my neighbor as myself.  When I worry about how right someone is before I love them, I am not really loving them.  I'm not dismissing accountability or promoting license. (Another topic for another day)  However, I am freeing myself from the crippling burden of basing my love and acceptance on my judgment of the choices, presumed motivations, beliefs, and expressions of others.

More truth. I do not have to fear that others' choices will hurt me.  I do not have to fear that I might support the wrong rights.  I do not have to fear that God will punish me for loving others in ways that other Christians might disagree with.  I don't have to fear that I will get it wrong.  Because I will.  We all will.

What am I going to do with my judgment and fear? Lay it down daily at the foot of the cross where Jesus died to forgive me from my sins and showed me what it looks like to love broken people in a broken world.

What is my hope?  My hope is in the very nature and promise of Christ.  I am loved so that I can love. I am accepted so that I can accept. I am forgiven so that I can forgive. I am broken so that I am like everyone else.

Maybe I'm not ruined after all.  Perhaps I'm just in the process of being restored.