Joyful, Joyful

Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and give no opportunity to the devil.


Ephesians 4:26-7



Several years ago, I made a commitment to live my life authentically and full of joy, peace and love. I was a new mother of a happy, healthy five year old, and I wanted him to know life in a home filled with happiness and love. For the most part, I was successful, but I have been feeling that this is all been slipping away from me over the last few years. The biggest obstacle to my joy, peace and sanity is letting other people dominate my thoughts. It gives the devil an opportunity in my life. By letting others influence me, its subscribing to someone else’s beliefs and values.

I believe in love.

I believe in peace.

I believe in joy.

For a few years now, I have been very angry. Its not one particular thing, its just there, like a wart or a blister. Its there, you pick at it once in a while, its ugly but its not going to kill you. Instead, it festers. If you have a blister that gets infected, you can get cellulitis which can become serious-and kill you. The same with uncontrolled anger. It can infect you and eventually you will rot from the inside out.

I could feel it festering, in my soul. I was turning bitter and angry. No amount of accolades or recognition could change it either, because I wasn’t ready to face it. There are a variety of reasons why the anger is there, ranging from daily annoyances to really big things, like the anger I felt over suffering through 2 surgeries and knowing that I will need yet another. I need to let go of it all.

Easier said than done.

I can’t go back and change what happened in the past. If I could, there would be a lot of things-especially in the past few years-that I would do over. Its disturbing to me, because I have always tried to live life without any regrets. You can’t change it-actions were taken, words were spoken-so why let it consume you? I lost my own perspective. There is a French phrase, l’esprit d’escalier, which roughly translates to the words you wish you could say. I have had a case of l’esprit d’escalier for too long! I keep rehashing conversations in my head, saying what I wish I had in this imaginary instance. This doesn’t serve any purpose, other than the fact that I was continuing to mad over something that wasn’t really benefiting anyone else, most notably myself.

The light bulb went off when I was grocery shopping yesterday. I don’t like food shopping to start with, I especially don’t like Wally World, and I was operating on literally NO SLEEP. To make matters worse, I am quite anal about how things go into my cart, on the conveyor belt, and subsequently into bags and my cart. I have my purchases arranged by panty shelf, refrigerater/freezer and other. I explained to the cashier that to not make the bags heavy because I wouldn’t be able to lift them, and that to please keep everything in order. I didn’t think I was asking for that much, and most cashiers think I am a bit crazy, and I try to be friendly about things.

The poor cashier I had yesterday deviated from my “rules” (think Big Bang Theory and Sheldon with who sits where on the couch-that is my bagging rubric). As a result, I lost it. She compounded it by putting all the can goods into one bag, which of course RIPPED as I put it into the cart. Just a teeny tiny rip that could have easily been double bagged and been done with it. I, instead, chose to be a witch about it and I probably drove this poor woman to either tears or worse yesterday. I wasn’t really angry at her-it was a variety of things. It was the lack of sleep, the fact that despite working all weekend blah blah blah I had to go grocery shopping before I even came home, the fact that I was in Wally World along with half of eastern South Dakota, western Minnesota, and northwestern Iowa it seemed, and the fact that grocery prices still are skyrocketing up, I had no clue what I was going to make for dinner, and the five gazillion other things on my brain-all of which played into my outburst. (none of these are valid excuses, by the way)

As I laid in bed, recounting my day, I replayed that encounter over and over again. I wanted so badly to go back in time and change it, but I can’t. Once something happens, it happens. It was the conscious choice of continuing to feel that anger, or to let it go that is mine to make. If I hold onto it, it makes me suffer.

No one else, just me.

I have to own it.

And let it go.