Angry

I'm angry. I can tell by the way I want to use strong words in an even stronger way, like my official swear word, "Crap!" When Mom was in a coma in the hospital and we were waiting for her to die I walked by a lady about her age and wanted to knock her down. I was so angry that she was up walking and Mom was not. I'm still angry. The trouble is I can't find anyone to be angry at. I usually get angry at God in extreme cases like this. I heard that you are like a bottle and when you're full of anger you can't take in love until you let off some of the contents of your anger. So I've always trusted God to handle my anger. But I had decided when this happened that I would completely trust God. And I do. I believe God did everything right where Mom was concerned. Like Gayle said at the funeral, Mom was ready to die, had time to say good-bye to us all and we had time to say goodbye after her coma. Yes, there is no doubt in my mind that "God's timing is perfect." So, at first I just ignored God. Since I couldn't be angry this time I didn't communicate. My constantly running prayer throughout the day was stopped. I just couldn't pray. But I had a perfectly sure faith that God was there and God was good. I could not, cannot deny that. Then I began to believe, like someone was tapping me on the shoulder, that God wanted me to get mad at Him (Her). So I spent some time yelling, outloud at God. Boy, did it feel good! This week our big dog Chai got hit by a car and died. It's been like going back to square one in my grief. I thought God gave me Chai during this time for joy. So I can really be mad at God now! This morning I was laying in bed thinking about this anger feeling. The image of a child throwing a fit came to mind. And I realized, for the first time in my life (I'm a little slow) that when a child does that she is not always angry at the parent, she is just angry because she can't have what she wants. It's a child's grief. A tiny loss. And, because they are not trained in the art of being socially appropriate, they just throw it all out there regardless of who is around or who they are embarassing. I have often thought about how nice it would be to be a child again. I wouldn't have to think about what others were thinking or who I might offend or who I needed to protect. I would simply throw things, hit people, and mostly just find the one I trusted most and swing my arms and legs at them and then cry against their chest until I felt better and could run off and play. Thankfully I do have a Parent like that. On a very treasured level, even though I can't pray in my usual way, I have a relationship with a Parent who simply lets me fling and cry, knowing my loss, my grief and waits until I let Her (Him) hold me again. It brings to me a deep sense of peace and love and trust. As Job says, "Though He would slay me, yet will I trust Him."