The other morning I was making my version of an Egg McMuffin. I had the English muffin in the toaster oven, one half with cheese the other ham, baking nicely. The toaster oven dinged and I went to take it out.
When I tried to remove the half with cheese, it slipped between the grates and the cheese ended up on the bottom of the oven. I sighed in exasperation, tried to take it out, but couldn't. I realized the oven had a false bottom to remove crumbs easily, so I slid it out. The cheese slid off and onto the hot oven's surface. I yelled at it.
I grabbed a nearby butter knife and tried to get it out, but again and again it slipped off and continued oozing. I threw the knife hard on the counter and walked out of the kitchen. It was over. I was undone. The cheese was completely off the cracker.
I've been mad at everything lately. I've yelled at Nancy. I've yelled at coworkers... during our department devotions. I have zero tolerance for BS. Zero. Songs on the radio, Facebook posts, even a local ministry talking about their impact, I hear them and think angrily, "You're so full of crap!"
But here's the deal. Anger is a secondary emotion. It comes from somewhere, some other emotion. In my case grief. I've written already how, after a 15 year journey, the weight of Mom's loss has surprised me. I was ill prepared.
I realize now I'm running. Filling my days with things to do, the radio, TV, filling my head with anything to avoid thinking about Mom's last days. Her last breaths. The images cling to me like the stench of old sponge that's been in the kitchen sink to long. And I can't wash them off.
It's not wrong to be angry. It's part of the grieving process. And sometimes it's the most godly response we can have. We just need to be sure we understand where the anger is coming from. Only then can we work through it, or point it in the right direction.
Fortunately, Nancy and my coworkers love me. They know I'm struggling. They have given me permission to not be OK.
When I walked back in the kitchen my muffin was waiting for me on the table. Nancy had cleaned things up and assembled it nicely. When your cheese is off your cracker, there is no greater gift, than people in your life who don't yell at you to clean up your mess. Instead, they love you enough in that moment to wait with you and when you're ready, help you reassemble the broken pieces.
When I tried to remove the half with cheese, it slipped between the grates and the cheese ended up on the bottom of the oven. I sighed in exasperation, tried to take it out, but couldn't. I realized the oven had a false bottom to remove crumbs easily, so I slid it out. The cheese slid off and onto the hot oven's surface. I yelled at it.
I grabbed a nearby butter knife and tried to get it out, but again and again it slipped off and continued oozing. I threw the knife hard on the counter and walked out of the kitchen. It was over. I was undone. The cheese was completely off the cracker.
I've been mad at everything lately. I've yelled at Nancy. I've yelled at coworkers... during our department devotions. I have zero tolerance for BS. Zero. Songs on the radio, Facebook posts, even a local ministry talking about their impact, I hear them and think angrily, "You're so full of crap!"
But here's the deal. Anger is a secondary emotion. It comes from somewhere, some other emotion. In my case grief. I've written already how, after a 15 year journey, the weight of Mom's loss has surprised me. I was ill prepared.
I realize now I'm running. Filling my days with things to do, the radio, TV, filling my head with anything to avoid thinking about Mom's last days. Her last breaths. The images cling to me like the stench of old sponge that's been in the kitchen sink to long. And I can't wash them off.
It's not wrong to be angry. It's part of the grieving process. And sometimes it's the most godly response we can have. We just need to be sure we understand where the anger is coming from. Only then can we work through it, or point it in the right direction.
Fortunately, Nancy and my coworkers love me. They know I'm struggling. They have given me permission to not be OK.
When I walked back in the kitchen my muffin was waiting for me on the table. Nancy had cleaned things up and assembled it nicely. When your cheese is off your cracker, there is no greater gift, than people in your life who don't yell at you to clean up your mess. Instead, they love you enough in that moment to wait with you and when you're ready, help you reassemble the broken pieces.
Praying for you Jeff! It is not easy! Many of us have been through this, so we can sure identify!! Hang in there- it takes time! a big hug. pat
ReplyDeleteThanks so much!
DeleteAmen. Love you and Nancy. Praying for you. What a gift you are to others who are going through grief and cannot express or understand the anger as you have done so well. God bless you.
DeleteSo kind of you to say Shirl. Thank you.
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