11.1.2018
It’s probably a blessing that I rarely recall the specifics of what Craig and I’ve argued about at any given time, but I’m definitely cursed with remembering the feelings. Plus a few images—snapshots that pop up in my mind’s eye. Rarely am I able to call up an entire argument: the details, what was said, the ability to picture when and where it was.
My memories concerning a particularly heated argument when we lived in Ohio are notably thin. But I do remember that we were both intensely angry, and that Craig was sitting at the kitchen table, slurping either soup or cereal in a bowl, with a spoon, when our disagreement…exploded. And then Craig calmly picked up the bowl of whatever it was and walked out the kitchen door into the garage, slamming the door behind him. If I was angry to begin with, that only notched it up another full level. If the flame on the gas stove was at medium, the full burners just kicked in, baby.
I stood there for a while, seething. Until I finally mustered the oomph to open the door to find out what on earth Craig was doing.
And here’s the snapshot in my mind’s eye: Craig sitting on the cement step. In the pitch-dark garage. Still slurping away.
His explanation? “I was so angry I was afraid I’d say something I’d always regret. I needed a time out. To cool off.”
Now put yourself in our shoes:
What do I say, and what’s my next move?
If you’re on the step: What decision do you make now?
What’s to be gained from this experience?
Up to this point in our marriage, I believed any and all arguments should be settled here and now. A separation “time out” period? Never. That could be a dangerous precedent and lead to disagreements that are never worked through. This particular argument, however, proved that sometimes we need to take ten…or whatever…to make sure we aren’t acting out in anger. Saying and/or doing things we could never un-do.
Once Craig had calmed down, he came back inside the kitchen—admitting it was one lousy way to eat!—and we sat down to talk. Were we still good ‘n angry? Oh, yeah. But the burner was turned down enough that we could focus on the issue. Energy went towards reconciliation rather than barbs thrown at each other. Now we were fighting for us. For our relationship.
Connecting More Deeply
With my God: Years ago I read a book by Madeleine L’Engle with a character that advised a much younger friend: “God can handle your anger.” Are you angry with God? Do you need to admit that, and have an honest talk with God about your anger at him? Until hidden emotions are out in the open and realistically looked at, they can control you—rather than you controlling them. Do you need the reminder? God can handle your anger.
With my spouse: LIGHT BULB TAKE-AWAY…If you are THAT angry, take a time out. But DO come back to fight for your marriage. Can you recall a time that you did this? Or a time when you didn’t—and should have? Learn from your past.
With your community: You may also be ignoring the warning signs of all types of repressed anger in your life: Are you feeling depressed? Impatient with people in all sorts of situations? Confused and/or finding it tough to concentrate? Evaluate your inner self, honestly, and bring repressed emotions to the forefront to be analyzed….and ultimately, released. If you find you can’t do this on your own, seek help from a licensed counsellor.
Leader’s Corner: Teach the practical tool of using emotions as guidelines to illuminate what’s going on deep inside. Feelings can be mined to reveal. For example:
If I’m feeling insecure, what’s happening in my life that’s causing me to feel unmoored? Try to trace the emotion to its origins. What can I do/say/study to help me put my trust in God alone?
If I’m feeling overly impatient and frustrated with those around me, this can sometimes be traced back to anger at myself. What self-esteem issues could be causing me to project my frustration with myself onto others?
Use other examples to illustrate, and ask for class members to relate their experiences.