Puffs of Anger

I have a confession to make. I know that often we want our leaders to already have gotten their stuff together, but I have to admit that I don’t. I may be taking a risk in making my confession public. I hope you can understand.

 I get puffs of angry feelings. Okay, sometimes they are more than puffs—more like clouds that hover, but not generally. Puff or cloud, they do have the effect of coloring my memories and my decision-making ability.

And since there is no one who bears fault for this situation—Jeff did not choose to become ill; he did not choose to die; God did not make Jeff ill—my anger becomes apparent to me in dealing with the stuff that is left to sort.

There were some things that I was never really able to come to grips with about some of Jeff’s decisions in life. I could understand and accept his desire to become Roman Catholic, but then he withdrew from so many other parts of our normal life experience. He would say he did not want to “scandalize” anyone with his conversion, but the effect was to leave me alone in dealing with the ramifications of his choices. He no longer wanted to spend time with people whose company we had enjoyed together. Or if he did spend the time, he would either become confrontational or morose when questions in conversation arose. And so, these feelings keep arising within me as I try to sort through the things that are left to deal with. How do I sort through the things while I am still sorting through the feelings?

I don’t have a real rosy answer to this one. It’s a struggle. I want to remember with joy, and often I can but not always. At this point, advice is not what I need but simply prayers and patience—and music. Each night I go to sleep listening to the beautiful piano music that AnnaMaria recorded for Jeff and me in his last days. And balance is found for the night.

Ephesians 4:26

Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger.