I can’t tell you how many times, while sitting at the desk, doing the dishes, folding laundry, whatever, I have had to stop what I am doing and hit the floor. On my face, giving my consuming anger to the One who saved me.
I realize that my anger is grounded in hurt. Wrong. Rejection. Betrayal. But it’s still anger and anger is a dangerous thing. Yes, I have suffered an injustice, but if I let my anger sit, if I stew in it, it will grow. It will turn into bitterness. Hate.
I refuse to let that happen.
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