Just yesterday I came face to face with something that seems so small in the scheme of things, but that plunges me headlong into an absolute rage every time I deal with it: tools and things that need repair. Stupid, I agree, but it hits right on one of my buttons: the fear of being incompetent. Keith was trying to put the leaf blower back together after it had somehow gotten taken apart. We won’t speculate on how, at this point. This is a snap-together unit that actually requires no real assembly expertise, yet the pieces just wouldn’t cooperate, no matter which way I turned and forced them. Finally, after two rather loud exclamations that shouldn’t be repeated in polite company, I gave up and went inside. Immediately I was convicted of how easily I go straight from irritation into rage when I face something that has consistently defeated me. Then I heard the enemy’s voice telling me what a no-good angry, immature excuse for a person I am, and how everybody else can deal with frustration calmly and in a balanced, good-natured way. Of course that’s a lie (I’m pretty sure), but still I felt condemned.
I need to hear the voice of God.