ATTRIBUTED TO FREUD

Supposedly a favorite joke of Freud's--

When one of us dies... I'm going to move to Paris.

THE ROOTS OF RAGE

I do not tolerate rage. I will not associate with rage-filled people. As a child I had no choice. I am an adult. I am in charge of my surroundings and the people with whom I interact.

Rage is disappointment, anger, frustration, etc. that've been stuffed down, bottled-up, squelched. Sometimes the toxicity leaks out. Sometimes it erupts in volcanic proportions.

The pro-active antidote to rage is to learn to express feelings, needs, and concerns in an appropriate, timely fashion. Being nice is unacceptable. We are either nice people or we aren't.

Being nice = stuffing true emotions.

If we believe that God knows our true hearts, how can there be a place to stuff this stuff? As grandma always said, "What's in your heart comes out."

HOLIER THAN THOU

I spent my childhood living with these people. The words never sounded right to me, even when I was young. Condemning words. Judgmental words. Hate-filled words. I hear them for the first time in many years tonight as I exit a store with my elderly aunts.

"No God-honoring people would shop in this store.

People who walk with God wouldn't wear these clothes."

I steal a glance to see if anyone is within ear-shot. Just one woman. She heard, I'm sure. Maybe she's used to hearing these words in this Middle-American conservative city. I'm not. I haven't heard this kind of language since I was a child.

I love God and I follow his precepts. I'm imperfect and can be judgmental. I shop at this store in my own area. It is a good store. I buy many of my clothes at this store.

It's shocking how we can harbor such hatred and anger within the same heart that loves God and chooses to serve him.