Anthony and I typically start the day peacefully on Saturdays. We enjoy “sleeping in” and a cup of coffee or tea with milk and honey. (“Sleeping in” is in quotes because baby Cub embraces life before sunup by hovering over my face and announcing “It’s time to get up, Mama!” with a tooth and gum-revealing grin). We make plans for the day over eggs, which Anthony makes because he’s so skilled at doing so that I call him the “egg perfectionist.”
Other days we go off the rails instead. By 8 AM, I pounded my fist on the wood island in the kitchen. We neglected to use “I” statements and instead hissed “You always…” and “You never…” an excellent way to start a Saturday.
Anthony went to meet a friend and I washed dishes and began to clean up the kitchen. Five minutes later, I was still angry. I threw Cub’s toys in the toybox and took satisfaction in the sound of items hitting his plastic lawnmower as they landed.
Getting angry is not unusual for us, but we both usually get over it just as quickly as it strikes. When the anger hadn’t dissipated five minutes later, I knew I needed to pray.
Praying when raging is hard though. I got no farther than, “Ok, Lord,” five times.
When I don’t know what to pray for myself or someone else, I repeat The Lord’s Prayer. It’s a way for me to take my human hands off things by saying, “Thy will be done.” It removes the burden of trying to discern what prayer is best for someone by submitting to what the creator of the universe already knows is best.
The Lord’s Prayer reminds me that I’m a butthead even if I’m mad at someone else for being a butthead when I ask for my sins to be forgiven, i.e. when saying “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” It’s a solid jumping off point that usually leads to other, more specific prayers for whoever is on my mind.
I wasn’t up to a personalized prayer because I was too angry but thought I could manage reciting The Lord’s Prayer. So I did.
I figured God would say something when I got to the whole forgiving bit, but it was even earlier. As soon as I said, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” the anger left me. Peace flooded me instead.
Feeling lighter, I finished cleaning the kitchen, picked Cub up and sang, “Time for huggie wuggies” while we danced.
That moment gave me another thing to look forward to in heaven. I look forward to the day I will be free from all anger, filled only with peace, thanks to the one who took on all of God’s wrath at Calvary.
Sometimes I live with such focus on avoiding hell that I forget to think about the sweetness of heaven.
What emotion do you look forward to being free from in heaven?
Thank you for sharing!
tea and tenderness 
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