Murder from the heart

It is all consuming.

It does not relent.

It burns like a wild bush fire.

Unable to be quenched.

Roaring with life.

Fueled by adrenaline.

A silent killer.

I have to admit that I have had some moments where this internal fire is ignited and there is just no way of putting it out. I take pride in the fact that I can take a lot of pressure, practicing patience and keeping it all together. But on rare occasions it feels as though I’m being controlled by someone else other than me. Kind of like being the drone in the hands of the Drone Pilot. Maneuvered via a remote controller. The physical effects accentuated by the absolute lack of control.

Those intimate and private parts of the heart, sometimes hidden in a disguise of smiles and only attended to behind closed doors. For years it builds up. And occasionally uncontrollably let loose to run it’s destructive course. No stranger. But rather well known as ANGER.

Interesting to note, I started working on this blog since Monday and it just so happened that 5 days later, my turn had come.

We have my mother-in-law staying as a guest in our home, to alleviate her loneliness and inability to go shopping on her own for the essential items one needs during a lock down. I mean this is a massive sacrifice. But sadly, I reached the point of no return. Knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that my husband and I have done everything we can to support and make life as comfortable and enjoyable as possible for her, after 23 days of lock down, a volcanic eruption of horrible poisonous words and past actions bubbled up and exploded, spewing failure, hatred, and spite into the mix – from both sides.

My head physically hot from the anger. None of my sentences making any sense. It literally took every ounce of life and energy out of me. I just couldn’t hold it together any more. All I could think of is that my husband deserves so much more!

Funny how life always highlights and teaches us specific lessons, only to later test those very lessons. I have failed miserably, time and time again.

And the truth is that anger is likened to murder in the bible, murder being symbolic of the matters of the heart. And what is the difference? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Our outbursts and words have the potential to take emotional life, leaving scars and wounds invisible to the naked eye that may or may not ever heal. Murder in the first degree.

Except that maybe our anger does not come in the form of premeditation.

Maybe this is one way to rein it in, other than desperately on our knees in prayer, to premeditate how we could respond in situations we know will cause us to react in ways that could be so destructive. I don’t know.

I am healing and will try again.

Another blogger’s post this week is definitely worth the read: Setting Boundaries

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