Real Life Marriage: Anger

(Photo by Roberta Pommert)

I have never considered myself an angry person, at least not a regularly angry person. Until this second year of marriage. And man, I have been angry. Not the yelling, throwing things, cursing kind of angry, but the quiet, brooding, cry-my-eyes-out, "I'm so frustrated, I can't stand it," kind of anger. I find myself wanting to express anger towards my husband more often than not, but each time, the Spirit convicts me that I am not really angry at him. No, I am angry about other things. 

I am angry about unmet expectations. I had expectations that marriage would give my husband and I more time to spend together. I had expectations we'd still go on dates and have fun. We do have fun, but many of our meals these days turn into business meetings. We spend the time we're not at work doing chores around the house. Planning date nights is work. I don't want it to be this way. 

I am angry at myself. I thought I would have energy to work and do all the things a "good" wife should. Work alone exhausts me.  I expected I would have more tolerance for little irritations. No. My tolerance is low. I want to fix bad days for my husband and make him feel better when he is sick. I can't. My inability to help makes me angry, too. No, I'm not angry at at my husband. I'm angry at life. And if I am angry at life, I am angry at God. Dangerous territory.

I got really angry the other night because I did all of my husband and I's chores and had time to make dinner. I was so proud of myself and hoped we could at least spend a little bit of time after dinner: talking or watching our favorite show or something. My husband had to work late, though, so I ate dinner alone. He had more work after he got home, so we only talked enough to get him dinner and back on his computer. I recognized that the situation wasn't his fault, but I still felt so upset. I was quiet. Then I brooded. Then I got sad. In the end, I realized that my anger was trying to tell me something. My anger was trying to tell me how much I cared.

The opposite of love is not hate. It is indifference. I am not indifferent towards my husband! I love him very much. I want to spend time with him. I want our marriage to be what God intends in to be, to reflect Christ and the church. And it's so stinking hard. That's why I get angry. Because it shouldn't be this way. And that feeling is accurate. We were designed for perfection, for perfect unity with God and with each other. Righteous anger shows me that that unity doesn't exist, at least not here and now on this earth. 

I get angry. I'll probably keep getting angry. But I hope the Holy Spirit will keep convicting me. I hope God will keep using marriage to hone me more and more into his image. Instead of getting angry at my husband, myself, or others, I hope I get angry at sin. I hope I get angry at my selfishness. I hope I get angry at my pride. I hope I pray for my heart, for my husband's heart, for our marriage. I hope I confess and repent and turn from sin more and more to Jesus. He got angry, too, but he had righteous anger. That's the kind of anger I want.