70: Give Me Your Anger

70: Give Me Your Anger

From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Devotional Stories for Tough Times

Give Me Your Anger

By Kim Stokely

For men are not cast off by the Lord forever. Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love.

~Lamentations 3:31-32

“Where is it?” I cried as I searched the dirty car floor for what seemed like the hundredth time. Tears blurred my vision. It was hopeless. The ring was gone. The thought stabbed through me, adding new pain to my already wounded heart.

My husband had bought me the blue topaz ring as a memorial for the baby we’d lost just three weeks prior. I’d gone in for an ultra-sound only to be told that my baby had died. As I was four months along, the doctor admitted me to the hospital so I could deliver my little girl. I had her on December fourth. Her birthstone would have been the topaz.

Now the ring was missing. I called the store where I’d been trying on clothes, but they hadn’t found it. I searched my mother’s house where I had visited after the holidays. Nothing.

My heart broke. I’d tried so hard to keep myself from giving in to my grief. After all, I had a two-year-old son who needed me. Well-meaning friends told me that obviously something had been wrong with my baby, so it was better that she died before she was born. Others consoled me with the reminder that since I already had one child, I should have no problem getting pregnant again.

But I didn’t want another baby. I wanted the baby I’d lost.

While my little boy slept on the ride back to our house, I finally had a heart-to-heart talk with God. Tired of keeping my emotions in check, I pounded the steering wheel and cried out to Him. “Why? Why did this happen? What did I do? Why do you hate me?” All my life, I’d thought it was a sin to be angry at God, but now I couldn’t stop myself from yelling at Him. “You took my baby! And now you took the one thing I had to remember her by! Why are you so cruel?”

As soon as I said the words, my soul felt lighter. I could breathe easier. In that moment, God spoke to my heart. “Yes! Give me your anger. Give me your pain. It’s all right. I’m big enough to handle it. And now that you’ve admitted it, we can work together to heal you.”

We arrived home an hour later, and as I brought my son into the house, a thought shot into my mind: “Check the floor of the car.” The thought continued to buzz in my brain like a fly. “Look in the car!” Finally, I went back out into the garage, got on my knees, and scrutinized the floor. “Look under the seat!” I’d searched under every seat while I was at my mother’s house, but I looked again.

And there, halfway under the driver’s seat, lay the ring. Slipping it on my finger, I felt God’s peace. Now that I had confessed my anger, He would be faithful to bring me healing.

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