to work.
Meanwhile, there are tools all over by the offices
due to construction. Drywall dust is blanketing
everything. Existing bookshelves and office “stuff”
needed to be cleaned, not to mention the carpet
needed vacuuming. All of the furniture was tightly
packed in a very small area, and there wasn’t even
room to turn around. It was a glorious mess! The
office was finally done, and furniture needed to be
put together, but first, the room needed a cleaning.
I had no time, but my desire to work in my new
office over rode logic. So I worked for a few hours,
cleaned for a few hours, and did reviews while my
children watched television or played. I worked
in some capacity around the clock, but things got
done.
My husband put together the office furniture. He
picked it out himself for me, and I love him for
doing it. However, in putting the office together,
he cut his foot, didn’t know it, and bled all over the
carpet before he realized the seriousness of the
injury. Little bloody toe prints left a trail on my once
meticulous carpet. I can laugh at it now because
it’s a silly thing to get upset about. Simply, it’s not
worth it, and it was an accident. In the moment,
though, all I could think of was “why couldn’t you
just be more careful, and why can’t you just clean
it up.” Why does it always have to be me?
I didn’t say anything. I cleaned it up in silence
because what he was doing was for me, but I was
still irritated.
My unexpressed irritation did manifest, and by now
it was bordering on simmering rage. I found that I
was looking for a fight. It wasn’t because I wanted
to fight, or that I’m a normally a combative person,
but I needed to release some of the pressure.
What I should have done was talk to my husband
about all of the stress I was feeling inside and my
feelings of being overwhelmed. He would have
understood, and made me feel better. I should
have, but I didn’t. I could have taken it to God,
but I didn’t either. Instead the symptom (anger)
and the feeling of being overwhelmed (root cause)
broke loose in both of our cases, and we got into
an argument over a dirty pot in the sink! Of all
things to get upset about, it erupted into a debate
over who should have washed the pot! *laughing*
That’s how anger and stress work, though.
We quickly resolved our differences, kind of
laughed about the silliness of the situation, and
moved on. It wasn’t enough to dissipate my stress
level though.
My inability to express my feelings and to deal with
the root cause of my anger manifested in physical
ways. In addition to everything going on, my dad
decides to call me. Not just once a day, but three
to four times. If I don’t pick up right away, he
decided to call, and call, and call. It was irritating
when I was trying to get work done. It only added
to my stress level. Gradually, the left side of my
face started to feel tight (as did my neck) until it felt
just a few degrees below numb.
No, it wasn’t a pending heart attack, but all my
repressed anger was causing me to clench my
jaw continually both when I was awake, and in
my sleep. My back teeth hurt because they were
constantly being pressed together. Chiropractic
help worked, but only for a short time. The stress
and anger that I wasn’t dealing with was coming
back.
As always, God walked me through it, and
everything worked out fine. However, the pain
in my face continued until the stress was fully
released.
It was going to church that allowed me to release
all of my stress, and it came from laughter. One
of my children just reached the toddler stage, and
is walking. Well, walking is the technical term. In
reality, he looks like he is lurching into action. His
movements are stiff because he’s still learning and
unsure. His arms are out by his sides as he is
keeping balance. While I am delighted at watching
him reach this milestone not only for himself, but
because he is becoming so heavy to carry, I found
watching him so humorous that I started laughing.
He looked like one of those mummies lurching
about in some B-rated horror flick. He was half
walking, half running in an attempt to keep up
with his older brothers and the older children in
the congregation. He fell on his tiny bottom so
many times, and all you heard was the gentle poof
sound his diaper made when it contacted the floor.
He was never hurt, but watching him learn to
walk was indeed funny. What was even more
humorous was that he toddled right into a very
competitive game of “Red Light, Green Light” with
the older kids and found himself in on coming
traffic. The children p