It was midnight. Sleep wouldn’t come, and anger had me wide awake.

After getting up, I walked around my neighborhood for 45 minutes, praying. Back home, sleep still wouldn’t come, and at 6 AM, I gave up trying.

That night taught me something unflattering about myself—something that isn’t easy to write about for the world to see.

The Context

My dad has stage 4 cancer. He’s 84, but his doctors call him a “young 84″—healthy otherwise. In recent months, he has made multiple ER trips. Chemo kills cancer cells, but they pass through his bladder and cause painful blockages, or so the doctors think. His latest visit meant a larger catheter.

The email that set me off arrived while my dad was in the ER.

The Trigger

My wife brought me a message. It was a request—one that felt like an overreach. I’d rather not go into the details. What matters is that it involved her job, and the request seemed unreasonable to me. It made no sense.

This wasn’t mild annoyance. I got livid. I don’t understand why; I just know I was fuming mad.

So I told my wife to have the sender call me. No call came that day.

What I Did

The next morning, the call finally came. The person asked cheerfully how I was doing.

One word came to mind: “Angry.”

Silence.

No yelling followed, and I didn’t list my complaints. I simply said what was true.

I don’t remember what she said in response, but her surprise was clear. After asking her to explain the email, I still didn’t understand. The situation had hit me out of left field. When she asked if I would comply, I said no—firmly, without apology. We talked through it. She validated my feelings and remained very calm. She promised to check with her boss and get back to me. Grateful for her patience and for validating my feelings, I thanked her. I know she heard anger in my voice, but she didn’t respond with anger. Instead, she responded very professionally and kindly. I expressed my gratitude for her response and complimented her character.

A few hours later, she kept her promise. The request was reduced significantly, and she went out of her way to make things easier on me. Questions remained, but eventually I agreed to meet their reduced terms.

What I Got Wrong

It would be easy to say I handled that well.

I didn’t.

My wife was visibly upset—more than once. She worried my refusal would cost her job. Though I believed she wouldn’t lose it, and was right, my anger still created real pain in our home.

What God Did

Thank God, my monthly prayer meeting came the next day. Only the host was there when I arrived. Perhaps God knew I needed time with him.

Together, we confessed our anger and talked honestly about it. Then we prayed—for our anger, our country, and our children. It was one of the most powerful prayer times I’ve had.

My friend started fighting an ocular migraine. I prayed for healing, and afterward he told me that just before I prayed, the migraine had disappeared.

God showed up. I was grateful.

God was Not Done

That night, I slept, but it wasn’t over. God still had to work on my hard heart.

After church the next day, a long mountain walk gave me time to pray. I came home feeling better, but without answers. My feelings went before God, and I asked him to work. He did—but not until the next morning, when I made another mistake.

The next morning, something I said was meant to justify my position, but my wife felt the anger still under my words.

She said something I needed to hear.

“The enemy is attacking, and you’re letting him succeed.” She had tears. She felt unsupported and hurt. That’s what it took to soften my heart. Anger toward an agency was still present, but now I could finally see how this was hurting my wife. She explained fully and clearly what she was feeling and experiencing. Until that moment, I had seen only irrational feelings and paranoia. Now I saw hurt, pain, and sadness that I had caused.

She was right to express how she felt and to feel as she did. That one conversation shifted everything in my heart.

What I’m Still Wrestling With

The reason I got so angry still isn’t fully clear to me.

Could it have been the stress of my dad’s illness? Maybe. Was it that I’ve always hated this kind of request? Probably. But I think there’s a simpler answer.

I wanted my way. I didn’t get it. And I sinned.

I’ve read Unoffendable by Brant Hansen. The message resonated so strongly that I wrote a Bible study from it and hosted one in my home. Yet that email offended me completely. The gap between what I know and how I act bothers me.

God is still working on me.

Three Things I Learned

1. Name your emotion before it names you.

Telling the caller “I’m angry” was one of the best things I did. It was honest. The feeling was on the table instead of leaking out sideways.

2. Anger rarely travels alone.

My anger had passengers: stress, fear, and exhaustion. My dad was suffering, and my wife was scared. I was depleted. Anger that looks like principle is often something else underneath.

3. The people closest to you will see what you can’t.

My wife’s words did what my midnight prayer walks couldn’t. Someone who loved me had to call me out of my self-centeredness. I needed to listen.

The Enemy Didn’t Win

Not everything was handled well. Still, the enemy didn’t divide my marriage or make our lives miserable. God worked things out in ways I couldn’t have planned.

It took a sleepless night and a difficult few days and I could have spared myself all that, but God used it to do some internal heart work. God works all things together for good as it says in Romans 8:28. He did.

I’m grateful.