The day began, like many in parenthood, much too early. Just after 5 a.m. one morning, after already wrestling my daughter back to bed three times that night, I heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway approaching my bedroom. There were at least 90 more minutes before the pre-programmed light in my son’s bedroom would signal the acceptable wake time. “Go back to bed” I called into the darkness, hoping that he would magically return. Minutes later, I heard the hungry cry of our infant coming from the next room. Frustrated and short-tempered I tucked the eldest back into bed before collecting the baby from his crib. Coffee was the only way to survive this morning.
In the silence of the early morning fog, I wrestled with my anger, speaking reason and encouragement into my frustration. “It’s not their fault that they wake early. I need to let go of my anger.” Mustering the physical and mental energy needed for the day, I willed myself into a place of inner peace. As my family slowly emerged for breakfast, I imagined myself to be calm and cheerful. My pep talk was working. Within minutes an inconsequential fight broke out over a toy and as my husband tried to referee the argument, I snapped at him. My thinly veiled anger was far from resolved. I had simply redirected it onto a seemingly more acceptable target.
The events of that morning were relatively inconsequential. If you asked my husband about it today, my hope is that he would not even remember the details. It has stuck with me, however, because of my total ineffectiveness in diffusing my own anger. As I processed the intense inner struggle and my sinful heart response on that morning, it occurred to me that I made two important mistakes in my thinking. I was wrong about the source of my anger and the solution to my anger.
It might be easy to assume that the source of my anger was primarily rooted in undesirable circumstances. My children were awake earlier than I preferred so I was annoyed, though perhaps inordinately. But when I took an honest look at my anger, I could see it was much deeper than that. I was angry at the loss of control that I felt.
Whether or not you are a parent, I imagine that aspects of the pandemic have left you with similar feelings of ineffectiveness. As a global community, we are experiencing frustrating and disappointing limits on our ability to move and be and do. Pause and think for a moment about where you feel you’ve lost control.
What does our emotional response to a loss of control reveal about our relationship with God? For me the loss of control I feel over my ability to exert my will over my family invokes anger, and I suspect that my anger reveals a personal idolatry. I want to be in control because I believe my way to be best and right. When God reminds me, through the humbling moments of parenthood or the realities of the COVID-19 pandemic, that only He sits in total sovereignty, I’m forced to recognize my own idolatry of control.
For others, loss of control might evoke grief, anxiety, or doubt - doubts about the goodness of God or His plans for this world and His people. Perhaps this loss of control, reveals a lack of joy or contentment that stems from life with Christ. Perhaps it reveals our idolatrous worship of food or sex, fame or money, in place of the one true King. Whatever emotions have emerged within you by the loss of control you experienced this year through quarantine and racial unrest, through sickness and death, I invite you to press into their meaning and see what truth God may be revealing to you.
In Psalm 34:18 we hear that “God is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” When we are emotionally overwhelmed or discouraged, we are uniquely prepared to hear God’s truth spoken into our lives. For me, the reminder that God is in control and I am not brings me into a humble posture of prayer and devotion to the truth of his Word. In times of heavy struggle, I may seek out the refining wisdom of a friend or the grace-filled advice of a counselor.
It is much easier to think about a healthy solution to my anger once I have a truer understanding of its source. A strong cup of coffee and a personal pep-talk may have been sufficient to diffuse the annoyance of an early morning. But in order to address the anger I feel when reminded of both my insufficiency and my idolatry, I will need the healing power of the Lord. In fact, this internal struggle with anger may be an invitation into deeper intimacy with God.
In sum, the negative and unpleasant emotions that often come with struggling, in whatever form, can be revealing of an even deeper more fundamental struggle in our lives. We are uniquely invited through that process of wrestling to find a deeper truth beyond the superficial or circumstantial explanation. In the coming weeks, we will be exploring more individualized responses to different types of struggle. Indeed, in God’s beautiful and wildly creative creation of mankind there is no one size fits all approach. I invite you to listen in to the conversation and to reflect on those moments of struggle in your own life. Perhaps our Lord is inviting you to meet him in a place where our brokenness and his healing truth collide?
—Rachel Capel is a Licensed Professional Counselor (LPC) at Haven Christian Counseling.
