And then there was anger

By JANET HART LEONARD

From the Hart

A soft word turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.

– Proverbs 15:1

If you come at me with harsh and loud words, I will tune you out. If I hear yelling on the news, I will often just leave the room. If I start to read all the chatter on social media and the discussion is heating up, I will scroll on by. I have to. It is self-care.

If there is one residual (actually, on-going) effect of the pandemic … it is anger.

Our lives have been turned upside down. We are told we cannot do things that we have always done. We are told we have to do things we feel we should not have to do. We are told we have to do things differently.

The truth is that … I am tired.

I am tired of the changes.

Change is hard. Change is uncomfortable. Change is inconvenient.

I want things back to the way they were before March 2020. Will it ever be? I hope so. Actually, I hope so, SOON.

A change is made by people who don’t want to make changes. The “change” is posted. “Let’s get ready to rumble.”

The arguing. The loud chatter.

The voices that tell us the risks that are out there and people we love will be subject to great harm or even … well, you know.

The voices that declare their rights are out there and they are being violated.

It’s definitely not a harmonious choir but groups of disgruntled voices that are trying desperately to get their point across. I hear a lot of clanging. It’s not pretty.

The truth is that I am tired of the loud and harsh voices. I’m tired of hearing and reading certain words, that if used, they will bring out the rumblers. Therefore, I will not mention them.

We are subject, daily, to a tug of war that involves verbal assault on those about whom we used to respect and care for. I think that’s a shame.

What worries me most is what our children are hearing. Has the dinner table become a place where anger is passed around along with the mashed potatoes?

I know how I feel at the end of the day when it seems nothing is well with the world or my soul. I am just weary.

I write this column with fear and trepidation. I am so afraid I will stir the pot. My mother said that is never a wise thing to do. I do not want my words to ever be on the handle of whatever is stirring the pot.

May my words be soft and gentle. May they bring a balm to a hurting and angry world. That is my prayer. Please Lord … heal our world. Amen.