Often we talk about losing our temper, but lately I've been busy finding mine. I've had a tendency to deny that I've been injured, and so I've been carrying around the anger that results from injury without any way of acknowledging and dealing with it. The result has been a low grade anger that seems merely a product of a crabby temperament. The more I explore my conscience and all the mismash of things that I've had in there as guides for my understanding of life and morality, the more I am discovering these injuries and thereby finding a home for my temper.
"Ahhh, that's why I'm so upset," I find myself saying over and over. This of course makes possible the requisite forgiving and releasing of the anger. Pretending that my life has been perfect most certainly does not make it so, and recognizing and dealing with its imperfections seems to be the fastest way to inner peace. I thought that by denying that people I love have hurt me I was dealing with the issue in the most charitable and Christian way, but in reality I was doing both of us harm. They weren't allowed to apologize, and I wasn't able to forgive. Life is not perfect. The people I love are not perfect. Recognizing and accepting that is actually the better way of grace.
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