Holding Your Peace

In an earlier post entitled, "Can You Count to 10?" I discussed time out. Let me tell you more specifically what happened on my first self-imposed time out.

When the warning realization came from God that I was getting upset, at first I wanted to ignore it. Thoughts like those I'd had in the past - "I have a right to be angry," and "Why can't they just understand" - leaped to mind, but another thought came, too. It came with fear - "I asked God to warn me three seconds sooner. If I don't listen now, he won't warn me again." The fear that I would be lost to my rage, and on my own instead of having God's help, drove me to my room.

I was still angry. Even more so because I had given the control of the situation to God so I could concentrate on getting control of myself. It was a desperate act of faith. When I went to my room I wept bitter tears of resentment, frustration, rejection, even anguish. My tears were interrupted by the same troubled and confused thoughts I had experienced in the past - justifications, clarifications, explanations, all followed by still more tears. I don't recall how long I wept, nor how long I stayed in my room. Perhaps it was hours, but eventually the emotions drained me and I rested.

Then came the turning point. All my emotions had been the same as in the past. I had vented those feelings, through tears instead of raging. And now, after that was done, I felt the difference. Sitting in my room I felt the distinct absence of one emotion I had grown very accustomed to - guilt. It wasn't there! I hadn't yelled at anyone. I hadn't used language I was ashamed of. I hadn't threatened or called anyone names. There was nothing in my actions to regret. I didn't have to go to my children or my husband and tell them how sorry I was. I didn't have to hear the obligatory forgiveness from them, and know it was more filled with hope and fear than with truth. I didn't hear that childhood song going through my mind, "Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, I'm gonna eat some worms."

It was so freeing! I don't recall the issue that upset me so on that occasion, but to my very core I will always remember the peace that gradually filled me up and satisfied my soul that day.

The next time I felt myself getting upset, I was eager to run to my room. I wanted to hang on to that precious peace I had found. It became easier and easier to extract myself from situations that could needlessly escalate to ridiculous and shameful levels, and when I did the peace continued to build.

I don't want to pass on the false message that in one event my habits completely changed, nor that my family was instantly healed. What I do want to say is that in one anguish-filled moment of discovery my desire to turn to anger changed to a stronger desire to hold my peace.