The battle with anger is on.

Diary entry: The only hope in this post is my hope in the Lord who will work His way in me, turning this angry tyrant into a mature person. Sigh.


Off! Flew the chopsticks; as I demonstrated my anger vividly.

Such a tyrant-like behaviour from me. Over petty matters. Really stupid matters.

Fall.
Fallen.
Fell.

I have no idea where was my PAUSE button. Where IS.
Is it something that God will change in a snap of His finger?
Or, do I have to work HARD at it?
How can I do so when I can’t see the PAUSE button?

I tried.

I read Bible verses about anger. Cringing in shame when it pointed out the fools who were ruled by their anger outburst and careless words.
I’m that fool.

I read ways of communicating my displeasure—none of which that involves the throwing of chopsticks, raising of voice, nor cussing.

But still.

I let it get to me.
I let it.

Like an itch I must scratch.
I let that anger escape loudly.

The only thing is, instead of a soothing aahh when an itch was scratched and therefore relieved—nothing is soothing about sinning in anger.

Nothing.

It vomits and splatters on everyone in its path.
Messy.
Ugly.
Smelly.
All over the place, uncontained.

Lord, Lord, what is to become of me?