In the last year I've come to see and accept that I have a problem. A problem that never surfaced prior to having children, one that I never thought I would struggle with. But I'm in the trenches of it, it suffocates me and I'm on a quest to dig myself out of this horrid pit.
It may seem like nothing, but this plague in my heart, it's yelling. As we've added more children and more responsibilities and more more more of life, I've found that I am spinning out of control at times, and it is in those times that the anger comes out. It spills out in rage-face, finger shaking, counter pounding raised voice, and it is so ugly. It has made Shiloh cry more than once, she has said through her tears ,"I don't like you right now." It has caused Asher (who is the unfortunate target of most of this uncivil behavior) to cower if I walk briskly toward him. I hate it, oh I hate it so much and I know that the best way to overcome a weakness is to face it, to confess it and put it on display and ask for prayer and accountability. I am done with it, I am done with living every day with this tension bubbling beneath the surface, waiting for one of my children to make a bad choice or make a mess or treat each other cruelly so that I can return their cruelty with explosive voice.
So here it is. I've put it out there in confession, in humility I bow low and ask for prayers, for advice, but also that if you struggle as I do, that you confront it with me, that we over come together. I have been reading and applying new lessons I've learned from The Orange Rhino, committing to memory verses that speak gentleness into my heart. I tried challenging myself not to yell, I got to 31 days before something trivial opened the flood gates again and since then I have been back sliding farther and thus I am here, opening myself up to your judgments, your empathy, perhaps your condescension. I'm okay with that. In the end, I want to look back and know that I let my real self be known, that I wasn't trying to create a mask, a series of perfectly cropped IG photos or carefully written status updates to make others feel inferior or even just to build myself up.
My hope is that in exposing the struggles, I will have more triumph to celebrate, and that I can erase the memory of an angry mommy from the hearts of my dear children. They are sweet people, I hope to help them stay that way.