Secrets feed a dangerous anger

Most people don't know that I have quite a temper. I do my level best to stay on an even keel, with family, with co-workers, with store clerks and even with telephone solicitors.

My dad, you see, had a terrible temper. And we never knew what would set him off. His fuse was pretty short but the fire burned for a long, long time. Dishes, with dinner on them, would go sailing off the kitchen table. Doors were slammed. Drawers would be flung open, only to be sent rocking back into place. Tires squealed as he'd pull out of the driveway, verbal threats to run the car into a bridge abutment echoing. Once, he put Mom and all five of us Carlson kids out of the car on the side of the road and drove off in a fury. Obviously, he eventually returned. But oh boy, was the rest of that ride quiet. Which was a blessing of sorts. Believe you me, you did not want to be on the receiving end of one of my dad's interminable tirades.

It happens to the best of us, even with the best of intentions, sometimes, tempers flare and whoosh -- entire relationships can be consumed in the flames.

Many years ago, someone did something, said something, failed to do something or failed to say something -- who knows? -- and I lost my temper. I stomped down the narrow hallway of our mobile home (and believe you me, I can stomp. They didn't call me "baby elephant" as a child because I was portly.) Reaching the master bedroom at the end of the hall, I pushed through the door, turned and slammed it with all my might. Did I mention this was a mobile home? The doors are lightweight, the doorjambs lighter still, and that slam only intensified my fury. Slamming a mobile home door is as unsatisfying as hanging up on someone with a cordless, touch-tone telephones today. (My mom pulled a phone right out of the wall once, she hung up with such passion.) My anger that day was so strong that I grasped the door that had failed to adequately slam in both hands and tore it right off the hinges! Oops. My anger fled and all I was left with was a broken door and shame that I had let my anger lead. Even after repairs were made, that door never closed right again.

Temper, temper.

I warn people sometimes not to make me angry, borrowing a line from The Incredible Hulk, "You wouldn't like me when I'm angry," I warn them, because it's true. They wouldn't like me. I don't like me. And I especially don't like the damage anger can do when anger is allowed to rule.

Sometimes, however, it's a tall order to stave off anger. People are rude. People are cruel. Sometimes, people are rude and cruel all in one fell swoop. At other times, anger is inspired by lies and secrets that serve only to separate, to exclude, to manipulate and to deceive.

Life isn't turning out as I expected at all. I'm not sure exactly what I expected, but I didn't expect this. Apparently, at some point in time, somebody did something, said something, failed to do something or failed to say something -- who knows what? -- and a deep anger was born. Perhaps it was even justifiable anger -- there is such a thing -- but instead of working through the anger toward a peace, instead of recognizing the anger and tracing it to its source, and dealing with that, it was buried and never spoken of again. But when this anger was conceived, its twin, revenge, also was conceived and in the fullness of time, was served.

The intervening years gave no hint of what was to come, gave no clues as to the coldness of the heart constricted by the unresolved inner rage, so when the dish was served -- as cold as ice -- it came as a complete surprise, and placed incontrovertible truths in place of the many lies that had successfully hidden the anger for at least two decades, and what we thought was true, what we thought was genuine, what we treasured and loved, was revealed to be a carefully woven cloth of deception.

Suddenly, every truth comes into question. If this anger could simmer undetected, what other unhappy truths may be revealed today? Or tomorrow?

Secrets are a dangerous thing. Secrets divide. Secrets conspire. Secrets, Jesus warns us in Mark 4:22 and Luke 8:17, will come to light, for God knows and sees all and he alone is equipped to judge. For myself, if anyone prefaces a statement with the phrase, "Don't tell ... " I'm going to stop them right there and refuse to listen. Anger, like any emotion, must be fed, and makes a feast of secrets.

"Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them; then come and offer your gift." Matthew 5:23, 24 (NIV)

I don't have all the answers, but I know and love the One who does. Let's walk in his love and discover him together.

Dawn