A New Light On Anger

In looking at this whole concept of fear's residence inside me, I've had to face the fact that there's some anger in me, too. It's probably related to the fear; fear and anger often go hand in hand. For instance, I've observed for some time a crazy reaction of mine. If I accidentally do something that causes a sudden burst of pain, like pinching a finger in a drawer, I erupt in a burst of anger. I hate it, but it's true. I've looked at this trait of mine with sadness and embarrassment but also with puzzlement. “What is this really about?”
Another natural tendency I have to fight is the ease with which I can harden my heart when it's hurt. It's tempting to be unforgiving. Clearly this is a by-product of the fear in me. It can play itself out like a script. Someone hurts me. I feel unsafe. I feel afraid. I close my heart down. I keep it closed in self-protection.

In seeing fear's and anger's ability to set up camp inside of us, I've had to look at these personal matters under this new light. I realize it's the unhealed fear and unhealed anger in me that cause all the problems. They're the intangible monsters pacing the hallways of my life seeking a means of release. They wait for an opportunity to latch onto and ride, giving vent to themselves and justifying their existence and expression. See? See? I have good reason to be afraid/angry/unforgiving!

Anger. Fear. Hardness. Unforgiveness. They exist in those of us who seem to be doing lifelong battle with them. They want full expression, full release. Take my finger-caught-in-the-drawer scenario. I'm going about my business, fixing dinner, when wham! - I don't get my finger out of the way fast enough. Instant anger. Huge anger. Out of proportion anger. The pain of the injury plus the fear caused by its suddenness strike the bullseye of the anger and fear resident in me all the time. And right on cue, I blow a gasket. First I get angry. Then I cry.
When fear and anger go unhealed – when the pain of incidents that evoked fear and anger in us go unhealed - they pace about for release. A very godly woman once told me that when we bury our emotions, we always bury them alive. Long ago and far away when the first frightening and unjust hurts occurred in my life, I didn't know what to do with the pain. I stuffed it away and buried it out of sight. Year after year of responding to pain this way did not kill the monsters of fear and anger in me. I just ignored them. All the emotions I bury will remain alive until they are healed. They will pace about like a monster in the corridors of my days and experiences. They will seek any door of opportunity that cracks itself open and they will burst into the situation in an attempt to vent some of the festering pain from which they originated. They oppress, they spew, they vent. They want to be heard and justified and validated.

But what they really want is healing.