The Monster Within

I struggle with anger. Maybe it's because of the red hair or the Irish + Scottish + German background. Whatever the cause, it torments my soul and has left untold volumes of relational damage in its wake. I can identify with Bruce Banner (the incredible Hulk) when he says, "You won't like me when I'm angry."

As I continue to read Sacred Parenting, again and again I find myself in the words Thomas wrote. In a chapter on anger littered with memorable thoughts and insight, I've pulled a handful of quotes to comment on.

Even if we don't recognize parenting as a religious process, it becomes one. Suddenly, issues of fairness, provision, justice, and the future take on transcendent meaning. If you want to enjoy children without these challenging forces shaping your life, then visit a soccer game, rent a kids' video, or hand out treats on Halloween -- but don't become a parent.

Like it or not, ready or not, parenting thrusts you into the deep waters of life. I've been asked a couple times recently when is a good time to have kids. My witty (or perhaps witless) response has been: there's never a good time to have kids. As I think harder on the question, it seems that the time to have kids, in as much as you and I have a say in it, would be when you're at peace with God and your spouse and your feeling compelled to go deeper, to be stretched in new ways, to be humbled. Sure, there's wisdom warranting application, but the hand of the sovereign God is mightier than the most robust plan. For Rayna and I, the journey has led us to new heights of dependence and prayer, community and authenticity, and understanding and peace. And we're just over three months in. With trepidation, I wonder what the next 18 years will hold.

I have to put my emotions to the test and corral them with my intellect. I don't ignore them, but neither should I allow them to drive my reaction. They're just there, like the weather, making the situation more or less pleasant, but they must not determine what I do.

Whether the emotion is anger, hurt, fear, joy, or something else, this is true. When our emotions govern, there's no reliable compass to navigate by. In my case, I've got to pause and ask why I'm angry. If I'm honest, most likely I've been inconvenienced or unintentionally offended. Neither are grounds for a wrathful response, regardless of how much I want to deliver one.

Researchers have found a cluster of nerves, the amygdala, near the brain stem that controls emotions and the physical and hormonal response to them. Strongly associated with the "fight or flight", the amygdala can temporarily override and hijack the rest of the brain. Personally, I think this is perhaps the one area of anatomy most gravely affected by sin and the evil one. Think of all the damage done by lost tempers and unbridled fear.

I know in my heart of hearts that no one loves any child more than the God who created that child. Yes, you would die for that child, but God already has. No one feels that child's pain more than God himself. When you sleep, you forget about your child's ordeal, but God never sleeps. That child's predicament remains always before him, and the Lord never misses a single stab of pain. He hears every sigh, counts every tear, notices every wince.

I remember how hard it was to listen to Peyton cry when we first got her home from the hospital, especially if I thought I could do something about it but shouldn't--like her crying when we put her down for a nap. My ears have numbed to a degree to it, but I think that's a small measure of God's grace to get through it. Thinking about God's 24/7 attentiveness, I can't fathom His heartache.

Our children need to see how offended we feel by their lack of respect and by actions that my endanger their lives or soil their character, or how passionate we become when we see injustice. Our kids will glean a rich harvest merely from watching what raises the ire of their parents and grandparents -- provided we get angry about the right things!

Obviously that last clause is key: get angry about the right things. I get angry about losing a board game or if the Longhorns or Cowboys suffer defeat. Clearly I need to choose better what I let get me riled up. I also get angry about the devastation left by Malaria and HIV/AIDS in Africa. That's one fire I hope Peyton does catch.

Father, I confess my anger. I need your Spirit to rule my amygdala so that I respond as you would: with love always, with anger where need be. Shape me into worthy example for Peyton's sake and my own.