Confession

I am angry, very angry, at God.

There are reasons for it. Some would say that I'm entitled to my anger. I've cared for a medically fragile child, not gotten the miracle I prayed for, and wound up without the privilege of caring for him. It sucks. (I'd pick a more socially accepted phrase, but there really isn't one for this situation - stinks just isn't strong enough.)

And you know what? Anger is coming out in Bookworm #2 also - he is mad because he misses his big brother, he isn't sure he likes his new role as the big brother, and he is afraid of losing us too. I know he's five and he can't say all that himself, but it comes out in his actions and his stories and his play and his recollections of his dreams. He is mad - and he also has his reasons, and some would say that he's entitled to it.

Really, both of us are angry because we didn't get our way - and we get mad at each other when one of us has to give to keep the peace. We're two peas in a pod, and not everything about that is good.

But mostly, I've got to get my anger under control because he's not going to be able to do that until he sees me do it. Here's a verse from tonight's Bible study lesson:

Up on your feet! Take a deep breath! Maybe there's life in you yet. But I wouldn't know it by looking at your busywork; nothing of God's work has been completed. Your condition is desperate. Thing of the gift you o nce had in your hands, the Message you heard with your ears-- grasp it again and turn back to God.
Revelation 3:2-3, The Message

If I can't get my own heart right and turned back to God and hungering and thirsting after Him just because He is who He is, how am I going to teach and train up my children in His ways?

More prayer and battle-of-the-mind is required on this topic, but my eyes keep closing.