Mondays are hard for my 15-year-old. She doesn’t like school, has had a few days of freedom, and 6 a.m. rolls around long before her brain is organized for dealing with the day. This week I was in a similar state, exhausted from co-chairing my college reunion over the weekend.
Thus when my child’s first words whined their way into my weary ears, my muscles instinctively tightened. At the second groan-and-grumble my jaw clenched. And by the time my offspring finally plopped down and began to eat, waves of angry heat were pulsing through my body. “Don’t say it!” I warned myself, as I felt my temper rising, “Don’t feed the beast!” But I was just too tired. When a particularly offensive objection emerged from my child’s mouthful of cereal, I retorted with unpleasant words of my own.
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Sigh. Will I ever learn? It’s true that letting my tongue loose gives my feelings an outlet…but that vent usually leads straight into a tougher situation. The line between saying what needs to be said and saying too much is not what I’m looking at when I’m mad. It’s a sad fact that–for me, at least–the path to sin is often paved with words that are better left unsaid.
It took quite a while to rein in tempers and get my teen out the door. Once that finally happened, I sat down and re-began my day with prayer. It’s one of the great blessings of faith: It teaches us that no day is ruined, for at any point in time we can re-set our hearts on God and begin again.
When my heart was finally calm I texted my child to say I was sorry. I received a text of apology in return. I thanked the Lord that we were back on track–with Monday, with forgiveness, with living our lives the way He prefers.
