“I think he’s faking,” my husband said, as our son stared at him from the floor with tears streaming down his face.
“Daniel, he’s six months old. He doesn’t think like that. He just wants you to pick him up,” I replied.
As the screaming elevated, my husband got down on the floor and scooped him up. The little boy lifted his head over his dad’s shoulder and turned to smile at me. I couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe he knows more than I give him credited for.
My anger acts in a similar way at times. It screams and refuses to be overlooked until it gets what it wants. It demands to be noticed.
What do we control our anger when it demands its way? How can we submit it to God’s commands to be patient, loving, and kind? We begin in our hearts.
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