Devotionals/Sunday Psalms – Page 14

Honest Anger

“I could not believe you didn’t call. You were three hours late last night.” My client, “Ann,” (name and other details changed) shook her fist at her husband, “Allen.”

Sitting at the other end of the couch, Allen narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t call because I wasn’t sure I even wanted to come home.”

“Well, maybe I don’t even want you there, either.” She glared at him.

I’d been seeing this married couple for several weeks. This was a typical impasse. Both in the grip of marriage-threatening anger, they needed to get more honest about their underlying, more painful feelings. “Ann, what are you feeling, right now? I want you to quiet yourself for two minutes and listen to your body. Are your shoulders tense, how does your stomach feel–take an inventory. ” Turning to Allen, I repeated my instructions.

As I quieted myself, I prayed inwardly, “Lord Jesus, help them be vulnerable to each other. Help them be honest about the deeper feelings. The sadness, the fears, the disappointments, the lost hopes. Help them find each other again.”

Emotions are expressed in subjective feelings, in outward behavior, and in our bodies. Helping this couple access their body experience, I hoped, would help them access their more hidden feelings.

Anger is a secondary emotion. We get angry because we are sad or fearful. Disappointed, despairing, feeling rejected, and many other kinds of vulnerable feelings can be covered up with anger.

And, anger in an intimate relationship usually does not get us what we want. Anger creates distance. If we want closeness, we need to access and share the more honest fears and sadnesses that have built up in the relationship.

Lord Jesus, reveal our hearts to ourselves.

Mine That Feeling

“If I really let myself cry, I’ll never stop.” My college-age client looked out the window as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. I’d been seeing her for several weeks and today, we’d begun to discuss her painful childhood. It was just her and her mom. Her dad had left when she was four and she rarely saw him.

“I just wish my mother would have listened to me, for once.” She looked at me and lifted her hands. Shaking her arms, she leaned forward. “Every dinner, and I mean every one, I had to listen to her complaints about working at the paper cup factory. After a while, I gave up trying to tell her about my day. She never asked. And I had to sit there for half an hour. I couldn’t leave. She wouldn’t let me.” She fell against the chair back as tears ran down her face.

Handing her a tissue, I asked, “Was there ever a time she listened?”

“No, that’s the whole problem. I felt invisible. She could have been talking to the air. And that’s still what she does. I called her yesterday to tell her about that “A” in sociology, but before I even said anything, she started about her job.”

“Feeling invisible is so painful, isn’t it? I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”

This client is a composite of several, (not the person in the photo) but representative of so many of us who were hurt by our parents’ sins. After we identify those sins and identify the feeling, we need to follow that feeling to it’s core belief. Feelings have reasons. They don’t come out of nowhere. Yes, it is scary to let ourselves feel what we feel, if the feeling is intense. But that’s where the gold is. Let’s not waste those feelings. Let’s mine them, rather than cover them up. It is in the mining that we find the nuggets of self-knowledge that will help set us free.

Yes, we need to find a safe place to do that work. For example, this young woman eventually felt safe enough in therapy to follow the sadness to her core belief: “I’m worthless.” She felt “worth less” than her parent’s attention. Not only had her father left, but her mother’s self-centeredness left no room for her. Her mom had provided food, shelter, and education, but had not provided attention, affection, or respect. Identifying that core belief allowed her to let Jesus speak his truth to that deep, painful lie.

Father of truth, help us mine our pain to find those buried lies.

Name That Feeling

“I feel bad.” In the other chair, my client slipped off her shoes and pulled her knees to her chest. Her blue jeans strained across her thighs. Her long brown hair fell across her tearful face.

I leaned forward. “Bad. Does that mean sad, disappointed, angry, irritated, anxious, fearful, confused, or something else?”

“I dunno. Maybe disappointed, but that doesn’t seem strong enough. We’ve been married ten years. I thought we were okay. Sure we have fights, doesn’t everybody? I don’t know why he wants a divorce. He says there isn’t anybody else, but I’m not sure I believe him. He doesn’t think I see him, but I notice him looking at other women.” She stared out the window. Last night’s snow still clung to the black branches of the courtyard maple.

“Disappointed begins to describe the feeling right now, but maybe it shades into something more intense, like despair?” A precise label would lead deeper into her heart.

“Yes, despair. That’s it. I don’t think there’s any hope. He was quite definite on Saturday that he was done. He slept on the couch that night and moved out Sunday. Now, I thank God we don’t have any children. All those years of praying and trying.” Still hugging her knees, she glanced at me before returning her gaze to the window.

“So, despair over the marriage. Maybe some relief over not putting a child through divorce.” Although I knew of her great sadness over her infertility, it made sense that she would also feel some relief now.

“Yes.” She rested her chin on her knees and wiped her eyes. (Photo is not of a client. Client scenario is a composite.)

Feelings can be confusing, mixed, and difficult to label. Recovery, though, involves naming the feelings. As we label the emotions, we can dig deeper into the issue to get at our beliefs. With a client like this, I would continue to probe at the meaning of the demise of this relationship. I’d want to know how it affected her faith, her sense of herself, and what story she was telling herself about it. She was just getting started in a process that, ideally, would lead to forgiveness.

Jesus, help us label our feelings.