Sometimes you can become so angry that despair starts to creep in. When this happens, cry out to the Lord and ask him to show you how to live.
Have you ever been so angry it turns into silent despair?
Hi, I’m Joni Eareckson Tada, and, oh, my, I am so familiar with that kind of anger. For me, it happened somewhere after the first year of lying paralyzed in my hospital bed. It happened after the horrible reality of a life of total paralysis began to sink in. Every ounce of hope was drained – it even drained anger out of me. And that is when despair moved in. It was a silent kind of despair. I refused to get up for physical therapy. I turned my head away when friends came to visit. I felt numb and without any emotion. I didn’t even have anything to say to the nurses and the hospital aides that had become friends. It was like I had died inside.
But there was one hospital aide who saw what was happening to me. Her name was Hazel. She was from Mississippi, and, as a nurse’s aide, she spent a lot of time in my hospital room, taking care of me. And Hazel noticed I was slipping away. She knew I had taken a liking to her. She would amble into my room, pull up a chair, and take her breaks by my bedside. “Wanna tell me about it, girl?” she’d say, lighting up her cigarette – back then, people were allowed to smoke cigarettes by your hospital bedside, even if they worked in the hospital. Anyway, Hazel would sit by my bed and try to get me to talk. She’d ask about my friends, and how I was doing in PT, and what did I think of that awful meatloaf for lunch? But I gave her no reply. I just stared straight up into the ceiling. Hazel would smile, slowly blowing smoke in the other direction, and then she’d turn to me and say, “You feel like bawling, you just tell me. I’ve got a kerchief here handy,” she’d pat her pocket. “Mm,” I’d reply. I didn’t want to talk.
I was so despairing, I didn’t even want to eat. Once when Hazel was feeding me dinner, I let half-chewed food dribble out of the side of my mouth, and suddenly, that was enough! Hazel slammed the fork down on the plate of food and peas scattered everywhere. “What in the world are you doing, girl?!” she shouted at me, and my body reacted with a spasm. She then forcefully wiped my mouth, crumpled the napkin, threw it on the tray, and said, “You get yourself together, girl. Ain’t nothing wrong with you that a good look around this hospital won’t cure.” And my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I fought back tears. “Now are you gonna eat this or what?!” she said. She had roused deep feelings of resentment in me. “Yes,” I spat back at her, “I’ll eat it!” The food was tasteless, I had to force myself to swallow it, and not a word was spoken for the rest of the dinnertime. After she left my hospital room, I struggled harder to contain my tears.
And that’s when I realized, “Oh, my goodness, I’m feeling something.” Like a hibernating animal waking up, I felt something stir. It was like my despair was beginning to lift and in its place, I felt this magnetic pull toward hope. Because I liked her, I wanted Hazel to still be my friend. And that night I found myself saying out loud, “God, I don’t want to live like this, please, and if I can’t die, show me how to live.” It was short, to the point, but it left the door open for God to respond. And looking back, I do believe the Lord sent Hazel my way to begin waking me up out of my despair. Yes, despair is a kind of anger, and I say more about this in a pamphlet that I’ve written that I’d like to give you today. It’s called “Anger: Aim It in the Right Direction.” And it’s yours if you just go to joniradio.org. Because if you feel like you’re on the edge of a silent despair – whatever the cause – then today, please visit joniradio.org and get your special pamphlet, all for you, and it’s free. ’Cause you don’t want to go through life with a numb despair, believe me, so contact us today at joniradio.org.
© Joni and Friends