Anger
“Don’t let the sun go down on your anger.” –Apostle Paul
“Don’t let the sun go down on your anger.” –Apostle Paul
Anger doesn’t always shout—it simmers, builds, and shows up when you least expect it. For me, it showed up this morning with a storm brewing in my soul. As I sat down to write about this lingering symptom of anger, irritation sprang out of me like a jack in the box. Have you ever felt anger rise in you unexpectedly—like a storm you didn’t see coming?
Aggressively I crunched the crackers I shouldn’t be eating and pounded the keys of my laptop, annoying myself in the process. Click, click, click! I seethed with the unfairness of rejection. Who angered me? The world. More specifically–my mother, myself and God!
In, The Anger Workbook, Les Carter, Ph.D., a clinical psychotherapist and Frank Minirth, M.D., an internationally renowned psychiatrist, write,
Of all the common human needs, the most obvious and important is the need for love. When we feel consistently loved our emotions show it through their stability. But when we lack love, we respond to our rejected feelings with anger. Through anger we cry the unspoken question, “Why can’t you just love me?”
“How could my mother not love me?” I cried inwardly. Rationally, I understood; having suffered from depression myself, I could relate to my mother’s postpartum depression. Raging hormones don’t make sense, and if help isn’t available, one feels like they’re drowning.
Yet, something didn’t sit right. My other siblings felt loved. So, why couldn’t she have loved me? Feelings of injustice overrode all rational thinking. Have you ever wrestled with a truth about your past that shook your sense of worth?
Her confession that day long ago came as a surprise. I was eighteen years old, not ready to deal with the influx of emotions her secret caused. Walking in the door after my night shift at the donut bakery, my mother greeted me in the kitchen. We were the only ones in the house. She asked if she could talk to me, a rare event in our family. Sitting down on the brown two-seater sofa in our spacious kitchen, she blurted out her regret, “I didn’t love you when you were a baby!”
Stunned, I looked away and fixed my eyes on the wooden floor. As I tried to register her words she started crying and asked me to forgive her. I looked up and saw her crouched forward, weeping.
Compassion flowed through me for this sorrowful woman, “Yes, mom, I forgive you,” I said, but I’m not sure that I did. I could only wonder how one couldn’t love their own child? I was stunned. And pregnant, unbeknownst to her. That reality deepened the ache. It made it difficult for me to understand how she couldn’t have loved me.
Today, as I face these feelings, anger toward her surfaced. I could not escape her constant criticism as I grew up. The love bond that should have grown naturally between us as mother and child didn’t develop. Over the decades she has profusely apologized again and again. She yearned for what I couldn’t give her, a close mother-daughter connection.
The pent-up anger concerning my mother needed to come out, but I could not, and would not, express my anger directly at her. Memories of my mother struggling to exist filled my childhood recall. Often she’d lay on the couch, despondent. Who could blame her? There were four of us, close in age, squirming around like mice, making a raucous, before my younger sister came along a few years later.
My mother had suffered extensively from fatigue, depression and other ailments all my childhood years. Yet, my anger needed an outlet. When I prayed and asked God to show me what to do, I thought of writing a letter. Not for her to read, but for me to process.
Writing the letter proved to be cathartic. I wrote down all my angry thoughts, addressing my mother as if she were in front of me. Words swept across the page, turning my beautiful penmanship into chicken scratch. In the end, I scribbled all over the paper like a toddler anyway in one last angry rage, so I didn’t care. Then, I ripped the torn paper into tiny pieces and threw it away. A bit of relief came. I suspected more would come as I continued to address this long-suppressed anger.
What does the Bible tell us about anger? In Ephesians 4:26-27 (ESV) we read, “Be angry and do not sin. Don’t let the sun go down on your anger, and don’t give the devil an opportunity.” Anger is one of our natural emotions. God allows us to be angry and we needn't feel shame for experiencing this emotion.
There are many things to be angry about in this world and sometimes our feelings of anger at injustice motivate us to act in positive ways. However, God tells us through His word not to stay angry. Otherwise, we are opening a door for the enemy to attack us, and could possibly sin in the process. We need to release our anger to God.
Anger is one of our natural emotions.
Another reason not to stay angry is because anger is detrimental to our health. I couldn’t count the number of times I went to bed angry. On the Australian government’s website, BetterHealth Channel, the negative physical effects of anger are listed as: headaches, digestion problems or abdominal pain, insomnia, increased anxiety, depression, high blood pressure, skin problems, increased risk of heart attack and an increased risk of a stroke. Do you notice any of these symptoms in yourself when you're holding onto anger?
I wondered about the connection between my anger and my health struggles throughout the years. All those nights I couldn’t fall asleep. Nausea. Depression. Were they all connected?
Then came a deeper question: Why was I angry at myself? This strange self-examination revealed a simple truth–my anger stemmed from my inability to overcome the effects of the rejection that still lingered. How could I release this self-wrath? I prayed and asked God to reveal it to me.
After a few minutes, I received the impression of the words, forgiveness and love. I felt somewhat better, like seeing a lighthouse from the dark rough waters. When light shines through glass, like it does in a lighthouse, it bends, a process called refraction where the direction of light changes because of a change in speed.
That light, bending through the thick glass of pain, wasn’t just guidance—it was healing in motion. It began to dissolve the resentment I thought would define me forever. God was reframing my past, showing me that rejection wasn’t the end of my story—it was the soil from which His love would grow something new.
Why did I have to endure the rejection in the first place? How much did God’s part play in this? Marriage counselor Gary Chapman explains in his book, Anger: Handling a Powerful Emotion in a Healthy Way, that anger is a natural emotion and the best way to come to terms with it is to take it directly to God.
Chapman shares that God already knows what you’re feeling, but He wants us to come to Him to express our feelings so He can meet us in our pain. Have you ever been afraid to admit your anger toward God, unsure if He could handle it?
Several people in the Bible expressed their anger at God. Job grew angry for all the undeserving pain and suffering he endured. Jonah ran away, angry at God for calling him to do something he didn’t want to do. Jeremiah felt anger because of the failed outcomes even though he had been obedient to God. In each instance, they expressed their anger directly to God. God listened and responded. The key is to go to God, not just stay mad at Him and ignore Him, letting our anger stew.
I liked the idea of expressing my anger to God. It needed to come out of me. As I paced the room, focusing on the sun descending through the window, my anger boiled over and I screamed. Over and over, I wailed until, depleted, my scream turned into a pitiful anguished cry.
Why? Why? Why? I repeatedly demanded to know through clenched teeth.
Why did my life end up in brokenness no matter how hard I tried? Why? My lips quivered and my body shook. Oh, God, why? I whimpered as I sat in a ball in the now-darkened room. Why me? Why couldn’t she have loved me? And why did you let this happen?
God didn’t say anything, but I felt His presence. He sat beside me like a best friend would, so close I sensed His body right next to mine. I closed my eyes and felt us sitting together, our backs leaning up against the wall.
Resting my head on his strong shoulder, I let the tears flow. Then, He rested His head on mine. I didn’t expect Him to give me an answer, but, at that moment, I didn’t need one. His peace which is beyond comprehension replaced the anger.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
At that moment, something shifted. Though my circumstances hadn’t changed, I had. God’s presence did more than soothe me—it softened the hardened places in my heart and began the slow, holy work of transformation.
God didn’t remove my memories. He didn’t rewrite my childhood. But He did begin rewriting me—from the inside out. The same anger that once poisoned my body is now being turned into compassion. The same sorrow that silenced me is being shaped into testimony. Only God can do that.
Prayer: Father, I pray for divine wisdom as I reflect on the anger within me. Please show me who I am angry with and ways to deal with it. I want to be free from the anger that is damaging my body, soul and spirit. Thank you for reminding me not to let the sun go down on my anger. Show me as I lay my head upon my pillow if there is anger in my heart. Give me the strength and wisdom I need to release that anger to you. Lord, encase me in your peace as I navigate my way through this healing. Thank you for being my rock and shield.
Application: Ask God to show you if you have suppressed anger. Some signs of anger may be feeling out of control, experiencing regret, becoming easily irritated, racing thoughts, fast breathing or a racing heart. Try to reflect on times you have felt anger and how your body responded. We are all unique and have different ways of expressing ourselves. Then, allow God to guide you to release it.
Journal prompt: Write down who you are angry at and why. Include all the emotions you’re feeling. After releasing and forgiving them, describe how you feel now—and consider asking God how He wants to transform your pain into peace, your anger into purpose.
Thank you for reading. If this post spoke to you, will you consider buying me a coffee to fuel my writing?
To read more about healing from early childhood rejection in this series, click on the links: Introduction, Distrust, Worthlessness, Loneliness, Depression, Hopelessness, Anxiety and Fear
Endnotes:
Les Carter and Frank Minirth, The Anger Workbook. (Thomas Nelson, 1993) 43
Ephesians 4:26-27 (ESV)
Gary Chapman, Anger: Handling A Powerful Emotion in a Healthy Way. (Northfield Publishing, 2007)
I teared up in the last few paragraphs where God met with you in your anguish. It is so beautiful and heartwrenching at the same time. It is honest and real, and I believe this will help anyone who reads it.
Some wounds are old enough to have their own zip code, but that doesn’t mean they get to be your permanent address. I like how you didn’t rush past the anger or dress it up for church. You sat with it long enough for God to sit down next to you, and that’s where the real alchemy starts.