| “Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus…” |
| —Philippians 2:1-5 |
Temper! Temper! Temper! Anger! Anger! Anger! Mean! Mean! Mean! Bitter! Bitter! Bitter!
More and more, as I press onward along the road of life and move from “old man” to “still older man,” I find myself being accused of being angry—too angry, unacceptably angry, annoyingly angry. I readily confess that, increasingly, I am confronted with the reality that so many things frustrate me. Because I am a very verbal person, I often express my frustration out loud. I am learning that this vocalization of my frustration is perceived by many people around me as “anger.”
By definition, “anger” is “a strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility.” As I examine my own sense of self when I am frustrated, I find that I do not truly feel annoyed, displeased, or hostile. Rather, when I experience frustration, I feel the emotions of disappointment, discouragement, and loss.
Trying to examine the overall appearance I assume when I am frustrated, I can understand why an observer might interpret my behavior as “anger.” But, I know in the depth of my being that I am not truly angry, just frustrated, disappointed, and discouraged, while all the time feeling a sense of loss.
Nevertheless, I am accused quite frequently of being filled with “anger.” And, this appearance of anger affects how people relate to me, or perhaps more explicitly, how rapidly they want to run away from me. Here’s an example:
One Sunday at the church I attend, not too many months ago, a woman whom I greatly admire told me that, because I am so angry, I am hard to engage in conversation. Her words actually stung. I felt quite hurt. In response to what she said, I smiled at her and she quickly tried to walk her comments back by saying she was “just kidding.” But, I know she really meant what she said. As she observed my frustration, she saw behavior that she interpreted as anger. And, she wanted no part of a mean, angry person.
In my task-oriented, dominant Concrete-Sequential™ approach to life, I can see where to some people I am difficult to approach. But, I am not nearly as mean as people think. I am actually very, very shy and very much an introvert, who simply has extremelyy poor social skills.
I will not bore you with what the psychological analysis disclosed when I sought professional help trying to lose weight during 18 months of counseling back in the mid-1980s. As I have shared on other blog posts, I finally stopped spending $150.00 each week when my psychiatrist fell asleep during my counseling session. Not only am I shy and introverted, I apparently am very boring, as well.
I do think that I need to make more of a conscious and deliberate effort to not let my frustration interfere with extending kindness of spirit and openness to those who may wish to interact with me. Rather, I need to willingly allow people to have access to the gracious spirit that God has been building deep within me over a lifetime. I am quite certain that’s what Jesus would expect me to do.
Perhaps, these words of a stand-up comedian that I once heard on television can—in a humorous way—sum up what I feel much of the time:
“When I was a young man, I realized I was an idiot. I presumed that as I aged, I would become less of an idiot. But, now that I am old, I realize that I am just an old idiot.”
Is there any hope for someone like me? Yes, of course there is. The Lord Jesus Christ loves me, died for me, rose from the grave for me, and sits beside His Father in heaven making intercession for me. Christ’s love for me can carry me from the emotions of disappointment, discouragement, and loss into a place of genuine well-being.
