Anger’s Aftermath

I’ve been angry.

Sometimes, when you get over a “hot” anger, it hurts for days afterwards like a sore belly after cramps.  The deception of heated anger strains everything in its path with gross exaggeration.  Very rarely is the circumstance as bad as I think, and it’s the enemy’s job to make sure I keep that distortion…  sometimes I don’t know who’s the bigger chump – the perpetrator or the one who takes the bait.

No – cancel that… I know who’s the biggest chump… the enemy!  HA!!!

After all, I have Christ Jesus to get me out of these messes and lead me safely back to shore.  The enemy drowned himself, of his own accord, and he’s pale-blue and bloated forever.  THAT’S NOT ME!  No matter how bad circumstances get!  HALLELUJAH!

I’m not angry anymore.  I’m just sore.

The distortion and distention of rage cools down and truth fits my frame again when Christ is involved; then I see it wasn’t that bad to begin with – whatever the offense – and, half the time, I don’t even remember amid the dimming embers. Isn’t that pitiful?  Why get that kind of angry in the first place, Shamma?  Or is it Sharon today?

Thankfully, God loves us both.

Goodnight.  :0)


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