August 18, 2010

Redeemed, How I Love to Proclaim It...

Today was one small fail for Amanda, and one giant win for the Lord.

I don't think I've mentioned yet that I have always struggled with my temper.  It would be great if I could blame it on my red hair and Irish heritage, but really it's just a sin problem I've had to work on my whole life.  When I was growing up, my temper would flare and I would lash out verbally to any and all nearby, cutting them to pieces with my rhetoric.  Only in the last few years has the Holy Spirit really started to make a change in me.  I pray almost daily that I am "quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry."

But my temper still flares.  It is hard to explain what it feels like to someone who doesn't struggle with anger.  It's like there's this burning ball of molten rage in the pit of your stomach, and it won't go away.  You don't even want it to go away.  You want to feed it, feed the rage until you can let loose and release the anger on someone, whether they "deserve it" or not.  It is blinding.  I can think of nothing else and I cannot simply sweep it under the rug or set it aside.  It is consuming, like fire.  Today, my temper flared. 

I was already super irritated at my claims adjuster who was supposed to have contacted me about the accident I was in last Monday.  An elderly foreign woman did not see me slowly backing out of my parking space outside my apartment and rammed into my bumper.  She was clearly in the wrong, but I found out today that my slacker adjuster believes I was in the wrong.  If he had done his job and gotten my story and my pictures of the damage, he could have seen for himself that I was right.  So now I'll be paying a deductible and bumming rides off my friends, on top of having to pay for the already broken AC.  I was furious at the injustice.  Ten years of no accidents, not even a parking ticket, and one oblivious woman and an inept claims adjuster changes all of that.  I could not see past my rage.  I typed an angry email to my mom, I had an angry conversation with Bestie, all "venting" about the injustice.  Really I was just throwing temper tantrums.

I sat at my desk and felt like crying.  Yes, because I was angry, but more because I knew I was failing at this trial God had thrown my way.  I didn't want to let go of my anger; I didn't even want to pray.  But it was one of those moments where I knew what was right.  So I prayed that God would take away my anger and help me to handle this situation the way I should, and that I would "consider it all joy."  Then I made myself busy not thinking about it.

Hours later, I sat back down at my desk and felt like crying once more.  But this time it was because I just realized that God had changed my attitude.  Nothing in me wanted to let go of my anger.  But as I sat there, thinking about the "injustice," the anger was gone.  Simply gone!  I still wasn't happy about it, but that burning ball of molten rage was gone, and a peace about "all things work[ing] together for good" prevailed.  I was filled with thankfulness that God would care enough to change my attitude for me, since I obviously did not possess the power to do so myself.  He is so good. 

And you know what's funny?  Not like funny haha, but funny weird?  I was praying in the shower this morning (where most of my best prayers, ideas, and singing voices occur) and prayed for humility.  Even as I prayed it, I hesitated, knowing that God would take me up on that and throw something my way to truly teach me humility, as I had asked.  I cringed inwardly, hoping I was wrong.  But I wasn't.  If I have to bear the guilt for this accident, I will.  I'll know the truth, but I'll try to swallow my pride and simply deal.

So, I failed.  But God won.  Pretty typical, if you ask me. :)

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