Archives For anger

Today’s guest post comes from my friend, Kevin Haggerty. He’s a Christian, husband, dad, web/graphics designer, writer, and MMA blogger. Kevin and his wife, Kim, are going through a year where they:

Both lost their jobs, and

Welcomed their son, Aidan, into the world. Through it all, hard as it’s been, God has been there.

Kevin’s blog is The Isle of Man, and he can be followed on Twitter @kevinrhaggerty

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I’m a pretty nice guy.

As a kid, I was probably somewhat of a pushover. I am the oldest of seven kids. I was obedient. I didn’t get in a lot of trouble. I held the line. I was essentially next in command if the boss went down.

I also have always been an introvert, though that is not something I’ve understood about myself until very recently in life.

Because of those factors, I generally kept to myself and avoided conflict as a child. In high school, I wasn’t a lot different. Though I started to stand up for myself a little, I was very much still going through a process of self-discovery.

The truth is that I probably took more crap than I needed to for the first 18 or so years of my life.

It was somewhere along that point in time that I started to become acclimated with anger. It was my out. My new savior.

It was my superpower.

Continue Reading…

Over The Edge(r)

randomlychad  —  April 30, 2013 — 12 Comments

This is a guest post from my friend, Ricky Anderson. Ricky is a Christian, husband, dad, database guy, and vehemently denies owning any more than one shed. His blog is at Ricky Anderson.net, and he can be followed on Twitter @Arthur2Sheds.

Please note that this post is part of a series on anger; there will be others as well.

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I was angry.

No, I was out of control. I had been sent out to edge and mow the lawn, and I was ticked.

Our edger was an old one; inordinately heavy and obnoxious to use. It was electric, which meant plugging in the extension cord and hoping it’d reach the end of the yard. Anything it didn’t reach had to be trimmed by hand. That edger and I didn’t get along.

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Partway through my disgruntled efforts, the cord got snagged on the swingset. I didn’t want to walk all the way across the yard to pull the cable around the pole it was stuck on, so I simply yanked.

And yanked.

And yanked.

Harder.

And harder.

With no result. In my 12-year-old immaturity, I lost it. I started bashing the edger into the ground. I yelled at that stupid edger. I pulled out every word I’d learned at school.

Then the head of the edger broke. I turned it off and dropped it. As I started to calm down, I was rational once again and became afraid. What would I tell Dad?

I looked up and froze. Dad was standing ten feet behind me. I didn’t know how long he’d been there.

I mentally started packing my bags for military school. Maybe the circus would take me, or one of my uncles. I didn’t know whether to run or cry, but I knew this was not going to go well.

After a few moments, my dad spoke.

“Well, I guess it’s time to replace that old weed whacker. Hop in the car, let’s go.”

We got a gas-powered edger that weighed next to nothing. It was wonderful. And Dad never said a word about my childish tantrum.

Sometimes when I’m angry about a situation and I’ve messed everything up, I don’t want to pray about it. I don’t want to go to my Father and show him what I’ve done. So I get angrier and angrier, avoiding what I know I need to do.

And I wonder if he’s watching the whole thing as my Dad did, just waiting for me to calm down and let Him “make all things new” (Revelation 21:5).