Who Am I?

I've written several times about how I have not been my best self the last year, especially in the last six months.  I keep meaning to make changes, set goals that are never realized--brushed aside after a few days or weeks, when I'm feeling better, like the half-finished bottle of antibiotics left in the bathroom because you don't "feel" sick anymore.  But, just like that case of strep throat that comes back more painful and more resistant, sometimes events occur in our life that compel us to be more humble and more committed to the things that really matter.

Last week, my trust was broken in a rather big way by someone I had considered a friend.  I was the angriest I remember feeling in a long, long time.  When I first received the news, I was shaking with bitter rage, and started naming all the things I had done for them, all the ways in which I didn't deserve this.  For the first time since probably high school, I actively wanted to go tell someone off, with much swearing and vicious attacks.  That lasted about 24 hours before I was able to calm myself down to a point of simmering anger.

But then I took a moment to examine myself:  who is this girl?  Is there anything less attractive than a shrill, angry woman bent on convincing someone else how wrong they are?  I didn't like what I was seeing, and if I was going to change it I had to admit to myself that it didn't start with the dropping of that bad news.  That was the last straw, sure (and a rather unexpected one for me), but what was the first straw?  Why hadn't I stopped it there?

For more than a year, I have been increasingly critical, impatient, selfish, crude (I've noticed myself swearing more and more casually), and easily irritated and angered.  There have been many reasons (none of them good ones, of course), but under these circumstances "reasons" have just been excuses masquerading under a less unpleasant appellation.  

We have been exhorted to "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them who hate you and pray for those which despitefully use you and persecute you."  If every man, woman and child who claims to be a disciple of He who spoke these words would heed them, this world would be a wholly different place.  In 24 hours, I had gone from seeing someone as a friend to seeing them as an enemy.  That was rather unChristlike all by itself, but the way I wanted to behave toward my new enemy was much, much more unChristlike.  I remembered myself and remembered what I should feel: compassion.  I thought about all the things I have in my life that this friend has not been blessed with.  I thought about all the circumstances and vicissitudes in life that had led this individual to think perhaps this course of action was warranted or necessary.

The situation is far from resolved and my frustration is not completely gone--I still feel that the action taken against my family was unfair and unjust, but I'm not angry any more.  Sad, disappointed, and a little stressed, but not angry.  I had not stopped to consider the affect my angry actions could have on one individual, let alone the repercussions they could cause to others connected.  Part of the problem is that there are family cycles and patterns that need to be broken--children involved who need to be modeled a better way of choosing, of behaving.  Doug went to talk to a friend about it, who asked the right question:  If this means setting a better example for the "collateral damage" folks involved, if it means helping to stop a destructive cycle and possibly help salvage a child's future, are you willing to take those stripes, rather than fight them?  Well, if we claim to be Christians, how can we possibly say "no"?

That should've been the first thing that occurred to me, not the last.  I don't expect perfection of myself, I don't expect to never be angry when someone crosses me (or more importantly, my family).  But I have always been someone who was slow to anger and quick to cool, rather than the other way around.  It has been said that trials do no determine our character, they reveal it.  That has been a reassuring thing to me in the past.  Last week, I didn't like what I saw revealed about myself, and consequently I am more determined to fix it.  Am I going to be the girl who spends a whole day plotting vicious things to say before I managed to get my temper in check?  Or am I going to be that girl that every "loser" (as their peers unfairly deemed them) or "lost puppy" (as my grandmother called them) would seek out because they knew they could expect kindness and a listening ear from me?  I'm afraid that too much of me too often has leaned toward the former lately and I have every intention of finding the sweet and soft-spoken girl I once knew and loved as myself.

These are not the kinds of things I usually share (and, as I'm sure you've noticed, the details are scarce and will remain so), but I share them for very specific reason.  First, to apologize.  If you have been on the receiving end of my blunt criticism (whether present or not), I am very sorry.  If you have had to listen to negative rants or complaining from me, I express my regret.  If I have been unduly impatient with you or irritated by things that are really quite insignificant, you have permission to flog me.  Second, I expect each and every one of you to hold me accountable.  If you hear me criticizing someone, even if perhaps you agree with me, please remind me to check myself.  If I am being negative, point it out (and ignore my childish resentment of the fact that you're right).  I know who I want to be, but I may need a little help getting there.