Everybody gets angry, right? How can that explosive moment be avoided? Is such a transformation even possible?
On a straight country road, my speed wouldn’t have mattered. I was upset. I don’t remember why I was upset, but that’s the way anger works. It’s a kind of temporary insanity. The slightest dissatisfaction could light my fuse. A minute after I floored the accelerator and was speeding down the road, I knew the curve ahead could be a problem. The wet autumn leaves covering the road aided my skid into the ditch. I thought I might flip my father-in-law’s car, but I pulled out of the skid back onto the road, my heart pounding. My girlfriend and I were fine, but the car’s transmission had to be replaced.
For years, I lived with the anger. Psychology and preaching weren’t helping with the control part. One day when my blood was boiling and I was about to explode, I realized that my anger could be fatal. Not only might I kill myself, but I was sure to injure those I loved. I prayed for a miracle. Give me control. It didn’t happen.
How could I lose the feeling that made me want to punch someone in the face? One fact was universally true. Every time I reacted, I paid a high price. I never helped myself. I’d heard people say they felt better after their explosions of anger. Did I agree? Evidently. Why else would I do it? But now I didn’t agree. I knew who I was hurting the most. Me. Relationships were always damaged. People saw me as some kind of monster they needed to avoid. That wasn’t who I wanted to be.
Therefore, fellow believers, listen carefully, speak cautiously, and don’t be controlled by your emotions, for anger will never lead to actions that please God. — James 1:19–20, The Discussion Bible
On a straight country road, my speed wouldn’t have mattered. I was upset. I don’t remember why I was upset, but that’s the way anger works. It’s a kind of temporary insanity. The slightest dissatisfaction could light my fuse. A minute after I floored the accelerator and was speeding down the road, I knew the curve ahead could be a problem. The wet autumn leaves covering the road aided my skid into the ditch. I thought I might flip my father-in-law’s car, but I pulled out of the skid back onto the road, my heart pounding. My girlfriend and I were fine, but the car’s transmission had to be replaced.
For years, I lived with the anger. Psychology and preaching weren’t helping with the control part. One day when my blood was boiling and I was about to explode, I realized that my anger could be fatal. Not only might I kill myself, but I was sure to injure those I loved. I prayed for a miracle. Give me control. It didn’t happen.
How could I lose the feeling that made me want to punch someone in the face? One fact was universally true. Every time I reacted, I paid a high price. I never helped myself. I’d heard people say they felt better after their explosions of anger. Did I agree? Evidently. Why else would I do it? But now I didn’t agree. I knew who I was hurting the most. Me. Relationships were always damaged. People saw me as some kind of monster they needed to avoid. That wasn’t who I wanted to be.
Therefore, fellow believers, listen carefully, speak cautiously, and don’t be controlled by your emotions, for anger will never lead to actions that please God. — James 1:19–20, The Discussion Bible