Elephant or Lion? Take Your Pick | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Elephant or Lion? Take Your Pick | Previous Challenge Entry
By Linda Lawrence
03/09/21
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I was trapped in anger and could see no escape. My husband isn’t alive to tell his side of this story, but that doesn’t matter because the fact that he never could talk about his side is the reason there is a story.

My husband did something on impulse twelve years earlier that put me in a vulnerable position. He immediately regretted it, but it was never discussed. However, the elephant in the room affected our ability to communicate on multiple levels.

Finally, I purposefully, hopefully, wrote a three-page letter laying out my side of the story, beginning with forgiveness—asking for an upfront discussion of the “elephant” so it could be dissected and then buried.

Prayerfully, I set the stage for what I hoped would be a satisfying resolution of a painful unacknowledged memory. Seated together in front of a cozy fire, I gave him the letter.

To my dismay, after reading that I had forgiven him, he put the rest of the letter aside, grinning from ear to ear. Confused, I waited for him to continue reading. But what he read on the first page, he interpreted as me taking the blame and absolving him. He was thrilled. I waited for him to read the rest of the carefully crafted plea but he walked away, relieved and grateful—and never looked back.

I was furious but swallowed the anger and frustration as I had for twelve years, choosing to be a peace-keeper. If one of us had to hurt, I’d rather it was me, than to be the one hurting him. This letter was as gentle a way as I knew to get rid of the “elephant” that was a barrier between us, keeping us separate, hindering the oneness I desired. I believe it could have led to healing of my husband’s regret if we had been able to confront it. But that was not to be.

I went for a long walk, pouring out my tearful frustration and disappointment to the Lord. I managed to eat dinner with my husband and another couple, spending the evening smiling with my mouth, but groaning in my spirit.

The next day, fury like I’ve never known before grabbed me—and would not let me go. Believe me, being in the claws of a roaring lion is much worse than being in a room with an elephant. I ran out the door, trying to escape the temptation to become a raging lion myself. I feared hurting my husband; but I hoped God could withstand my anger. I didn’t think He had done his part in the intervention I had asked Him for.

I needed solitude—escape. Frustration and disappointment were dozing lions compared with the hungry roaring lion now awakened and threatening to consume me.

But ultimately, it was the Lion of Judah that I stared down, shouted at with wildly waving arms, wailing in despair.

Finally, mid-afternoon, spent and hopeless, I made my way home and crawled into bed, pulling the covers over my head. “Help . . “ I whimpered, before mercifully falling into an exhausted sleep.

On awakening, I glanced at the clock. Suppertime. My husband would be sitting at the table, expectant of supper as usual, since we always ate at the same time. But how could life go on as normal? How could I function with this load of anger weighing me down? How could I pretend that rage was not consuming me?

All that came to mind was just to do the next thing. So I heavily rolled out of bed, and as I stood I felt something fall to my feet and settle like a pool on the floor.

Instinctively, I reached down to pull it up—then caught myself.

Breathing, consciously . . . deeply . . . breathing . . . I realized the anger had fallen off.

I had almost put it back on! What I had been unable to outrun or to outthink or to pull off, God had lifted from me!

In awe, I literally. . . slowly . . . lifted my knees high . . . one at a time . . . and stepped over the invisible pool of anger lying at my feet. The anger had dropped off and I was now clothed in peace.

To my astonishment, my heart and mind were calm. I was free! As I left the bedroom, I felt myself almost gliding, smiling in awe.

Turning the corner and entering the dining room, I saw my hungry husband.

“Supper will be ready soon,” I announced with a light heart.

He never knew how close we came to being devoured!

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