The Anger of it All

So I'm thinkin maybe 110 pushups in one day...then another 90 the next, then another 50 the next......wasn't such a grand idea. Granted, they are still girly pushups, as in half body, at the present moment but still very much pushups none the less. I did manage to pull off 15 full body "man" pushups in the midst of all those numbers. But where my left arm has completely recovered in the muscle soreness realm my right arm is another story. It doesn't want to work at all. No pain, no gain, I suppose. So, I continue on.

I've had to lay off the running yet again due to chest stuff. There has been no sickness since June of last year but whatever hit decided to strike full force and I'm fairly certain I have bronchitis. Feeling like someone ignited an inferno in the chest, croupy cough coming deep from within, the familiar feeling of blowing fire when I wheeze in and out. Entirely frustrated with it all I asked knowledgeable husband if running is wise at this point since it may just get everything moving and I could just cough it all out. But, sadly, it doesn't seem to work quite like that and I traded in running for my bed today. Steamy shower to see if that might help me find my voice once more, fleece lined sweat pants and shirt, chicken soup and a 3 hr nap.

Cold steady slow soaking rain falls and beckons the feet to take off in it...despite the feelings of total crapiness. It's hard to fight off the urge. I think I've finally discovered that there is healing that comes in physical pain....running, pushups, squats, pushing everything to the limit. The anger and frustration pounds itself out and I come back a much better, more peaceful, fulfilled and content person. After a rainy, cold grocery day into town yesterday and the awful, mean people we were met with my own retaliatory, vengeful yearnings were enough to scare even me and allow me to see how far I have drifted from my normal, laid back, peace and oneness with everyone in the world self. The lady that spoke harshly and rudely to well behaved Evye and Aubrey was in danger of being hunted down and scalped. Her nastily rude, crapped out comment..."Y'all just don't know where you're going, do you??" as they stood perfectly behaved was enough to provoke me into action. As the two of them actually moved to allow her to pass the spot we occupied I seethed. Evye and Aubrey together seriously took up less room than her 300 lb butt did yet she had the audacity to be put out because they were in her way.....after our entire family had to steer around her wide load and slow browsing ways to get passed her only seconds ago???? Ummm......no. At least, not today. Patient husband was a bit amused by my vindictiveness and fit of anger. His soft words didn't exactly turn away my wrath but kept me from hunting the woman down with a shotgun. As we continued to run into many fellow firefighters we stood visiting and chatting. Yet one after another passing geriatric grew irritated and ugly with our children who seemed to be the most responsible for mass space occupation. Why do people see fit to say such nasty things and be so awful to children and give such crapped out looks to the very men that are probably going to do chest compressions on them in less than a week??? Why do people bother growing so mad when all they have to do is just steer around their presumed road block or, even better....find an altogether different route. Cause I am quite certain they are in need of nothing where we all stand since there is nothing around where we stand. I just don't get it. The cold rain seemed to bring out the worst, most impatient people that reside in this part of Texas...including me. And my zero tolerance capacity for all of life right now became apparent. Even the FLDS Eldorado compound women were out shopping with their broods of 8 and 10 children yet they have the arrogance to look down upon our more heathen looking family since we are not all looking like Pa and Ma Ingalls with Mary, Laura and Carrie in tow. About the 50th old woman that huffed, puffed, grunted and murmured in disgust I'd had it. With Brad left talking to yet another firefighter the children and I continued down our shopping list. As the children all stood lined up out of the way of other shoppers one specific old woman that we'd passed on multiple isles said nastily to Garrison, who happened to be the nearest one to her but still remained completely out of her right of way...."Little boy, little boy. Move over and out of my way. There are just too many of y'all." That did it for me so I stepped forward and addressed her..."Ma'am. Believe it or not, it is not their mission in life to piss you off. If you would notice they have each smiled genuinely at you despite your disdain for them. Please feel free to find a different isle if they bother you that much." She promptly coughed and sputtered as if the world had done her wrong and speedily passed us by without uttering another word. With both barrels loaded and feeling completely uninhibited at this point it became my mission to go hunt the other woman down that had spoken so awfully to the girls and fire back at her. I had time to waste, the list was completed and visiting husband still stood talking to retired fireman. It probably was a good thing that I didn't find her on this occasion...despite the fact we had passed her many times after the incident. Feeling entirely frustrated and angry I could feel tears. I don't exactly understand my own emotions right now. I don't really understand the anger or why tears will fall over the smallest of things...be them entirely joyfilled or touching issues that run deep..or just mean, rude, ugly, hateful people. When in life were those people ever worth crying over...or even bothering with???

There is a deep pain that goes along with the healing of all of life. I don't think I ever understood this part of it all. I think I just figured that the pain was in the walking through the immediate moments after the fact and that time would heal. I suppose time does heal in some way, shape or form but I wasn't prepared for the deep, all encompassing pain or anger that accompanies healing. I'm not an angry person so this side of life is new and somewhat frightening. It does have a way of putting one in touch with the inner wild and crazy self. I have learned that anger can make you run for much greater distances, do a hundred more pushups than one would ever have done otherwise, and about a thousand more squats than ordinary. There is a freedom that comes in the wild and crazy...the same wild and crazy that seems to be spurred from the anger within. Wild and crazy lifelong desires that I have been too inhibited to ever do before. Thoughts that I would never before have given any room to entertain. And I know now more than I ever have that I do indeed have the strength to endure the pain...be it nose piercing or tattoo work.....and the tenacity to go through with it. There is freedom in the letting go and feeling the pain. I think for so many months now I haven't allowed myself to ever really feel it or experience it all...embrace it to push past it. I have continued to shove it on the back burner in an effort to cope. But as months pass and the healing begins I begin to remember explicit details about what took place that July night. How our own 6 year old girl was pounded so many times on the side of her head that temporary hearing loss occurred and was not regained for days and days on end. How could I forget that???...yet I did for a period of months. The explicit details and memory of it all coming back are more harsh and real than they ever have been...since it all occurred. Bruises, knife, how violated we all were that night. Having to come to the realization that there is not much punishment handed out for this since it is a first offense on his part. Having to accept that there will be little to no punishment for him at all. How someone could even do what he did. How I could let it happen. Lots to work through. Lots and lots of anger. And still more tears even 8 months after the fact. Such inner grieving as God brings me to a place in life that I have never been. I welcome it in one moment as I draw close and am brought to my knees yet resist it all the next in my fits of angry tantrums. So, the tears fall...in anger, in joy, in frustration, in realization of Who exactly God is, in knowing the Holy Spirit and feeling him more intimately than ever before in my life...as I come to see Him clearer than I ever have through all of this and am filled with total all consuming awe amidst the confusing anger. It's a confusing, emotional, painful place to be in life. But I have no doubt that I would not ever have known Him like this had we not been required to walk down this road we walk. And I know that despite my anger God is near and He knows. He knows what it is I battle, He knows the healing process.

So it is that I have a few anger issues to be dealt with. I get mad at not being successful at bread making, I get mad at white trash that shows up on my doorstep demanding back their 2 year old trash heap. Somewhere in all of this any fear that ever lived within me dissipated and in its place resides a strength that is ready to go to war with anything and anyone....so I do...cause I am just sick of being people's victim. The victim of their trash heap, the victim of their nasty crapped out lifestyle, the victim of their proudly uneducated ways, the victim of someone we trusted and allowed into our home, the victim of crotchety, old hags with bad attitudes and no patience, the victim of my own sister and the continuous turmoil of those that think they are always right and we are always in the wrong, the victim of middle aged arrogance that see our family as young white trash for having 8 young children that DO have shoes on and DO have brushed hair and DO have on clean well fitting clothes and DO behave properly and DO continue to show respect for these same people that show such disdain for them. I get mad at mean, rude one tonners that take up more space on the isle than our entire family does yet gets nasty with us cause we are in their way. I get mad when my shin is sending up sharp, paralyzing pain...so I do pushups. I get mad when my arm refuses to bend...so I do squats. I get mad at the huffing and puffing geriatrics that medic husband will probably have to go Heimlich maneuvering or oxygen bagging next week that think our family has violated some right of their's by merely occupying space. I pretty much just get mad right now. And I am ready to defend to the death everything that I think is right and pure and just...because no one else will.

That said...I know this too is not beyond God. He knows. He knows where the tears come from. He knows where the anger comes from. And I am beginning to understand that this too shall pass. It's all very much a part of this whole thing that I did not ever really fully understand or expect. But as we walk through these stages of healing concerning both Aubrey and losing Gideon and everything else in life we have had to overcome in the last 10 or so months I will embrace and enjoy the wild and crazy of it all. I will run. I will do pushups. I will do 200 squats a day. I will get my tattoo.

In the pain there is healing. And it's ok just to be mad for awhile. Perhaps the world will be a better place because of it all since I seem to be on a mission to set it all straight. And I'll definitely have a better body by the end of it.